


The Divided Dragon

by Enigmaticrose4



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:38:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmaticrose4/pseuds/Enigmaticrose4
Summary: In the darkest of times we must turn to those we love; for if we forsake them we are forsaking ourselves. Raised without a father Draco deals with being the son of an imprisoned Death Eater. - Dramione AU





	1. Family is First

**Author's Note:**

> Point of Change: Lucius failed to bribe and talk his way out of Azkaban.

Time slowed to an almost impossible level as Narcissa watched them lead Lucius away.  He didn’t shout and scramble as so many others had done.

No, he stood tall, his face a solid mask as he was led away.  Only once did that mask flicker, and that was as he met her eyes.  His gaze straying down to the toddler on her lap.

That flicker was all she needed to see.  

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard that she tasted blood.  He’d promised that he would never leave her.  Told her that his loyalty towards the Dark Lord would never stop him from being there for her.  

But today he’d broken that promise. 

And now she was alone.

No, she wasn’t alone, the small body squirming on her lap reminded her.  She was a mother.  She would never be alone as long as Draco needed her.

And she needed to turn all of her attention to him.

Taking a deep breath, keeping her mask in place, she stood up and shifted Draco to rest comfortably on her hip.  Like the wonderful child he was, he had sat quietly through the entire trial.  

Confidently, her head held high as she fell back on every bit of training she had, she walked out of that courtroom.  Flooing back to the Manor before the Ministry employees could arrive.  

They’d be tearing this place apart, but that was fine.  It had always been Lucius’ home.  Too many Malfoys had left an impression.  She’d never been able to sink her own magic into the place.  

They’d be much happier in her dower house.  

Much, much happier.

oXoXoXo

“Mama!”

The childish shout made her look up from her book and Narcissa couldn’t help but smile as Draco ran over to her.  

“Yes, my dragon?”

“Look!”

He held up a stick, gripping it tightly with his chubby little hands.  

“I’m looking, darling.”

He grinned and gave the stick a twist.  As she watched the bark rippled and shimmied down the length of the stick.  A moment later it was as smooth as marble and a brilliant orange.

“That’s so lovely!  How did you learn to do that?”  she asked, letting her voice tell him just how proud she was.  Doing accidental magic at three!  And transfiguration to boot!  Oh, if only Lucius could…

No.

She wouldn’t go there.

He’d chosen his path.  And now he was paying for it.  Sweet Nimue, he’d even made her pay for it.  She loved her little home, not much more than a cottage, but she missed the life she had lost.

Going to Diagon Alley, or any other wizarding place in the British Isles, was an absolute nightmare.  She’d only made the mistake of taking Draco there once, but that had been more than enough.  He was now extremely wary of strangers.  It made her heart hurt, to see him with no playmates his own age. Even the Death Eaters, or Death Eater sympathizers that had escaped persecution never returned her owls.  She could only assume they were trying to protect their own families, which she could understand.  

She just didn’t like it.

And she doubted she ever would.

oXoXoXo

A little bell chimed and Narcissa looked up from the bookkeeping she’d been doing, a small frown marring her elegant brow.

Who could it be?  

It had been almost five years now since Lucius had been incarcerated, and in that time they’d only had three visits at her cottage.  

All three of them had been from the Ministry.  Of course, they’d just been making sure she was ‘safe’.

But the last one had been over two years before.

She could hear Dobby answer the door, a quiet murmur of voices, and then he appeared in her small little office.  His bright red tea-towel clashing with her decor, but she didn’t mind.  It made Dobby easy to spot.

She didn’t like having an unseen house elf around the place, it made her feel insecure.  Something she really didn’t want to dwell on.

“Yes, Dobby?”

“Mistress has a visitor.”

“And who is that visitor?”

“A Miss Tonks, Mistress.”

Narcissa frowned.  Tonks?  Andromeda had married a Ted Tonks, but they hadn’t spoken in years.  Who could this be?  A daughter?  Perhaps.  Well, only one way to find out.

“Thank you, Dobby, please bring her here.  And prepare tea in the sitting room.”

Dobby gave a bow and left silently, making Narcissa smile.  She’d always hated Dobby, he’d been such a terrible house elf, but that had all changed after they’d arrived at the cottage.  She didn’t quite know why, or, rather, she didn’t want to dwell on the likely reasons.

Narcissa wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been the girl that appeared in the doorway to her sunny little office.

Miss Tonks had the most outrageously colored hair in a ponytail that could never, in a million years, be called centered.  It was a bright green that put limes to shame.  And, while the girl appeared to be of Hogwarts age, she was certainly not dressed in robes like a proper young witch.  No, she was wearing those muggle blue trousers made of a rather sturdy fabric.  But it was her top that made Narcissa want to go find her sister and give her a scolding.  How could she let her daughter wear a top that was practically falling off of her?  And what was the ridiculous strip of fuzzy cloth around the girl’s wrist?

The girl waited rather nervously in the door and Narcissa stood, gliding across the room and holding her empty wand hand out.

“Hello Miss Tonks, I’m Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy.  What may I do for you?

Miss Tonks - she really should know her own niece’s name - stared at the hand and then took it tentatively.  The girl’s grip was loose at first, but after the first shake grew much firmer and, as Narcissa watched, her hair went from bright green to a more calming turquoise.

A metamorphmagus.

Well, that was a fact she hadn’t known.

Narcissa’s heart gave a twinge and she felt hurt, remembering how close she and Andy had been as children.  How could they have grown so far apart?

Oh.

Wait.

She remembered.

She’d chosen to trust her husband.  Follow the path her family wanted.  And look just where that had led her?

“Uh, well, hello,” Miss Tonks said, pulling her hand back and looking around the room.

“Well, would you like some tea while we discuss the reason for your visit?”  Narcissa asked kindly, her heart tugging at how much strength of character it must’ve taken her niece to come here.

“Oh, yes, thank you.  I’m famished.  Mum thinks I’m with Charlie for lunch.  Took me forever to fly here.  I really misjudged the distance.” Miss Tonks said in a rush of words.

“Well, then we shall just have to have some cake, as well as biscuits.  Follow me.”  Narcissa moved past the girl and led the way to the sitting room.  

The sitting room was nothing like any of the ones she’d had at Malfoy Manor, but Narcissa was rather glad of it.  The room was small, with only one conversation circle.  One part of it was centered on the fireplace that they enjoyed using all winter long, while the other end contained two french doors that were currently thrown open to let in the warm summer breeze coming in from the garden.

Where, if Narcissa craned her head just right, she could see Draco playing with his toys.  She’d never been able to go shopping in Diagon Alley with him, but she had taken him to a muggle toy store a few miles away for his last birthday.  There he’d selected a magnificent dragon, several knights, wizards, and one poor princess that was constantly being rescued from the dragon.

Dobby was just laying out a tea service as they walked in and Narcissa cast him a grateful glance when she saw it not only contained cake and biscuits, but several little sandwiches.

Miss Tonks took a seat on the settee and Narcissa chose to sit opposite her, on her favorite chair.  

“How do you like your tea?”

The question made Miss Tonks jump.  The girl had been looking around the small room with awe, taking in every detail.  Narcissa knew it wasn’t a very splendid room, not like her old sitting rooms, but then, she doubted Andy had anything this splendid.  She’d been denied her dower house when she ran off with a muggleborn.

“Uh, sugar please.  Lots.  Oh.  And no milk,” Miss Tonks answered.

“Here you are.”  Narcissa passed her a dainty cup on a saucer.  “And, please, help yourself to the food.”

“Thank you.”

Narcissa sipped slowly at her own tea as the girl grabbed a sandwich and hastily devoured it, showing none of the grace her mother had been famous for.  Silently, she studied the girl’s features, searching for any sign of her sister.  There wasn’t much, likely Miss Tonks morphed any features she didn’t care for, but there, in the tilt of an eyebrow, was a bit of her Black heritage.

After a few minutes the girl slowed down on her eating and Narcissa smiled nicely at her, “So, my dear, to what do I owe your visit?”

Miss Tonks jerked at the question, dropping her teacup on the ground and spilling tea everywhere. 

“Oh!  I’m so sorry!  Here, let me-” Miss Tonks grabbed a snow white cloth napkin and started to bend down to sop up the tea, but her head hit the tray and sent it all tumbling down off the table.  Narcissa could do no more than stare for a moment as her niece’s turquoise hair flashed to a bright red that matched her cheeks as she sat on the edge of the settee, her clothes covered in tea, cakes, and little bits of cucumber and ham.

She looked about to cry.

Narcissa quickly collected herself.  Maybe treating Miss Tonks like the visitors she’d once entertained wasn’t the way to go.  No, perhaps it was better to address the girl in the same manner that she used with her son.

With that settled she pulled out her wand.  “Don’t worry about it.  Accidents happen.  Besides, I have a young son, you think I own anything that can’t be easily repaired?”  

The girl didn’t respond, just looked more shamefaced and her eyes began to fill with tears.

Narcissa gave her wand a quick wave, sending the remnants of the tea service to the kitchen where Dobby could deal with it.  Another wave eliminated the spilled tea and left Miss Tonks sitting there quite dry.

Sadly, that didn’t change the girl’s expression as tears began to leak out of her eyes she let out a loud, painful sob.  

Narcissa stood and moved to the settee, sitting wrapping her arm around the girl’s thin shoulders.

“It was just a tea service.  It will be alright.”

The girl let out another sob.  “I’m sorry!  I-I just wanted to make a good impression!  But I always muck things up when it matters!”

Now Narcissa was a bit confused.  “I wouldn’t say you mucked anything up.  It was just an accident.  Besides, we’re family.”

The girl’s head jerked up and she yanked away from Narcissa’s embrace to stare in open-mouthed shock.  Her hair was once again that shocking green color.

Narcissa frowned, “Why do you look so shocked?  Don’t you know that your mother and I are sisters?”

“Well- I mean- Yes!  I know!  But mum said you HATED her!  And that you’d NEVER say I was family.  It’s why she always decided against going to visit you!  I heard her tell Dad that she was just trying to protect me, by not mending bridges with you. That’s why I came here today!  To show you I’m worthy of being a Black, at least enough for you to visit my mum and talk.  But then I blew it by being my normal clumsy self!  I’m so, so, sorry!”

She stared at this scared, brave little girl and felt something swell up inside of her.  It took a moment for her to realize what it was.

She cracked a smile and yanked the girl into her embrace once more, hugging her tightly.

“You silly, brave, wonderful girl!  I never approached your mother for fear of what she would say over my son!” She gave the girl a tight squeeze and then released her, pulling back to look down at the girl’s confused face.  “How about I introduce you to your cousin?  Then I’ll go pay a visit to my sister.  You’re right.  It’s time bridges were mended.  What’s the name of your house?”

“Uh, Tonks Cottage,” Miss Tonks said, obviously confused by this reaction.

“Good.  Here, follow me.”

Narcissa stood up and swept out of the sitting room and into the garden, trusting Miss Tonks - she really should ask the girl her first name - would follow her.

Draco was playing under a tree.  He’d built a tower with some wooden blocks and the poor princess was perched on top.  Standing before the tower was his dragon, facing off against a knight and a wizard.

“Draco!” Narcissa called.

He looked up and smiled, then frowned and shrank back a bit at the sight of Miss Tonks.

“Mummy?” Draco asked.

She hurried forward and swept him into her arms, something she very much doubted she’d be able to do in a few months.  She was actually surprised she could still pick him up, what with him being six-years-old now.

“It’s alright, Draco.  This is your cousin-” she stopped, remembering Miss Tonks had yet to share her first name.

“Oh, well, just call me Tonks, please.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, “Call you Tonks?  What’s wrong with your given name?”

Miss Tonks flushed, “I hate my name.”

“That may be so, but you and Draco are family.  He cannot call you by your last name.  Now, what is your name?”

The girl wrinkled her nose and whispered something.

Narcissa sighed.  “Louder please.  I’m old.  My hearing isn’t that good anymore.”

“Nymphadora,” Miss Tonks said more loudly, looking extremely put out.

“Well, that’s a very good name, though if you hate it, what about if he calls you Dora?”  Narcissa suggested, trying to appease the girl.  Really, it was a perfectly fine name.  She was actually quite pleased that Andy had chosen such a good, traditional name.

The girl thought it over before giving a small nod, “I guess Dora’s fine.  But just for Draco here.  Anyone else calls me that and I’ll hex ‘em!”  

Narcissa smiled and turned her attention back to Draco, setting him back down on the ground.  “Can you say hello to your cousin Dora?  Her mother and I are sisters.”

Draco stared at the girl, her hair once more back to turquoise.  He pale grey eyes looking her up and down, judging her as only a Malfoy could.

“Why’re you dressed funny?”

“Draco!”  Narcissa exclaimed, embarrassed that he dared ask such a question.

Miss Tonks didn’t seem at all embarrassed though, instead she smiled, “Because, this is what all the cool kids are wearing.  But do you know what the coolest thing is?”

Narcissa had never actually taught Draco any slang, so he frowned, “Cool?  You’re cold?”

She laughed, “No, silly, it means, like, nice or the best!  Like, you’re my cousin, so you’re cool.”

He thought this over, before nodding very seriously.  “I see.  So what’s the coolest?”

She grinned, “This.” Her head turned a pale pink and then her face morphed so that she had a pig snout and big, round eyes.

Draco gaped in wonder and Narcissa couldn’t help but be impressed.  She’d never actually met a metamorphmagus before, she didn’t realize they could take up non-human appearances.

“Draco, are you alright staying with Dora?  I need to speak with my sister,” Narcissa said, taking a step back.

Draco didn’t look away from his cousin as he said, “Yes, Mummy.”

Miss Tonks proceeded to kneel down and begin morphing her face into different shapes, each one making Draco gasp and laugh in wonder.  

Her son’s laughter followed her through the garden and into the house.  There she grabbed a bit of floo powder and tossed it into the fire.  Stepping into the fire she called out, “Tonks Cottage.”

Only then, as she was whisking through the floo network did she stop and wonder just what she was going to say to her sister.


	2. Sisters Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andromeda and Narcissa mend their differences. Draco continues to grow up.

The windows were thrown open and a soft breeze made the curtains flutter, spraying strands of sunlight all over the cozy little sitting room.  

Andromeda propped her head up on her hand and stared dreamily out the window.  Her mind wanted to wander, to go floating through the air, dancing amid the sweet scents of summer.

She loved hot summer days.  Ted would always complain about the heat.  Begging her to let him put cooling charms on all their rooms.  But she always refused him, only letting him charm his study, a small room in the back of the house, where she never felt inclined to go.

She tore her gaze from the window and back to the parchment lying before her on the desk.  She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the terrible handwriting before once more picking up her quill.

Dipping it in her special inkwell she went to work, bleeding all over the paper, correcting grammar mistakes and leaving notes in the margins.  All while ignoring the call of the outdoors.  She needed to get this novel edited and owled to Alianore before Nymphadora came from the Weasleys.  For the house was never this calm and peaceful when her daughter was home.

Hours later she was halfway through the manuscript when the roar of a fire came to her from the kitchen.

Frowning, carefully setting her quill aside, she stood up and drew her wand.  Nymphadora had left on her broomstick and Ted was out of the country for the week on business.  

No one should be using the floo.  She’d had it keyed to only allow travel to residents or those they saw as family since before the war.  Everyone else had to call and gain permission before they could come through.

“Hello?”

Andromeda was almost at the doorway between the sitting room and the kitchen when the voice broke the silence.  

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest, her wand dangling limply in her fingers.

She hadn’t heard that voice in over a decade.

Andromeda was at a loss to understand why her baby sister was here.  How she had gotten through the floo.  

“Andy?”

The soft, cautious voice came from right in front of her.  Andromeda jumped, hearing her wand clatter on the wooden floor beneath her feet.

Her baby sister was standing right in front of her.

“Cissy?  What-what are you doing here?”

Cissy smiled nervously, looking shy and uncertain.  Just like the young girl she had once been.

“Your daughter came to see me.  Wanted us to reconcile. She’s quite persuasive.”

Andromeda’s heart lurched and she felt tears burn her eyes even as the mother side of herself promised Nymphadora a strong punishment for lying about where she was going.  “She did?”

Cissy nodded, “Yes.  And, well, I have wanted to say this for years, but, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for breaking ties with you.  For following a path that has only brought me one shining positive amongst a sea of negatives.”

“Your son,” Andromeda whispered, knowing exactly what made her sister happy.

It was funny, that.  Cissy had never wanted much in life.  Just a home where she was loved and children to take care of.  She’d seen that possibility with Lucius Malfoy, and Andromeda couldn’t really blame her for it.

“Yes.  Draco is the only good thing in my life.  And right now he’s playing happily with his cousin.  The only other child he’s ever come into contact with.”

Andromeda’s heart lurched again.  She knew things hadn’t been easy for Cissy since the end of the war.  It had bothered her, hearing what the other side said about the Malfoys, but not enough to do anything.  Cissy had stated her views and chosen her bed, she had to lie in it.

But what if she was wrong?  What if Cissy had only mouthed the words to get the family she wanted?

She had to know.

“Are you really alright with your son playing with my half-blood daughter?”

The words came out colder than Andromeda had intended and Cissy flinched before quickly schooling her features and drawing herself up to her full height.

“Are you alright with your daughter playing with the son of a Death Eater?”

Andromeda didn’t even think before saying, “I refuse to punish a child for their parents’ sins.  So, no, I have no problems with your son.  Now, if he chooses to follow in his father’s footsteps…”

Cissy’s expression grew icy, “If he chooses to follow in his father’s footsteps I’ll be the first one to say anything.  My son will not be making the same mistakes I did.  And, to answer your question.  No, I take no issue with your daughter’s blood status.  When all is said and done family must come first.  I’ve learned that now.”

She wanted to believe her.  She wanted to believe her so much that it suddenly hurt to breathe.  “Do you really believe that?”

That icy mask slipped, showing more emotion than Andromeda had seen her sister show since they were small children.

“Yes.”

She took a step forward, her chest suddenly feeling too tight, her lungs struggling to pull in air.  To have family again.  To give Nymphadora magical relatives.  Relatives that she could spend time with while not hiding her true nature.

Cissy stared at her.  Her hands were white as they twisted in her robes.  So many unspoken words still hung between them.  Years of dislike and distrust.  It was all too much to settle in one meeting.  But, maybe this was the time to begin the healing.  To start healing the damage their parents had begun.

Mind decided, she strode forwards, opening her arms and enveloping her baby sister in a hug.  Cissy stood there stiffly for a moment, as still as a statue.  And then, in the space of a single heartbeat she broke, clinging to Andromeda and sobbing.  Tears burned at Andromeda’s own eyes and she did nothing to fight them as she held her sister tightly and wished she’d been as strong as her daughter and gone to visit Cissy five years ago.  It would’ve been so much better.

oXoXoXo

“So, do ya wanna come with me?”  Dora asked, giving Draco a hopeful look.

He grimaced and looked down at the broom held tightly in his hands.  Fear fluttered in his chest and he was finding it hard to breathe.

He had only left Coelum Court to go somewhere other than Tonks Cottage a handful of times over the past four years.  Only once had it been to a magical area, and then Dora had used several tricks to disguise his appearance.  He’d always been nervous around crowds in the muggle world, but being surrounded by wizards and witches - magical people that would hate him if they saw him - had made him so nervous that he’d ended up having a panic attack right in the middle of Flourish and Blotts, necessitating Aunt Andy to quickly apparate him home.

Just the thought of going to another magical place made the edges of his vision go black.

Warm hands clasped his shoulders and he forced his eyes to lock onto Dora’s.  Her brown eyes glittered, a rainbow of colors hiding under the surface, just waiting to break free.

“Draco, relax.  You don’t have to come.  I just thought you’d wanna.  Charlie is a great pal and he’s got a baby brother your age.  If you come we’d have enough to do a small quidditch game, three vs three.  You wouldn’t even have to speak with ‘em.  Just fly your broom.  I know that relaxes you.”

He focused on her eyes and the sound of her voice, forcing his muscles to relax, just like Uncle Frank had told him to.  Uncle Frank was the brother of Uncle Ted.  He was a muggle doctor, but knew about the magical world.  Mum and Aunt Andy had asked him to help Draco after the panic attack in Flourish and Blotts.  

Dora kept talking, rambling on, but Draco ignored the words.  Letting the comforting weight of her hands and the sound of her voice ground him.  Finally he blinked and fully relaxed, processing once more the idea of visiting the Weasley family.  What had Dora called their home?  The Den? No, that wasn’t right.  What was it?

He gave his head a small shake and pulled back, focusing on controlling his breathing.  She grew quiet and he looked back at her, wanting her to continue talking.

“Who’re the other three playing?”

“If you come and play quidditch?  Well, two of them are Fred and George Weasley.  They’re two years older than you.  Just finished their first year at Hogwarts.  They want to try out for the Gryffindor team this Autumn.  They’re both troublemakers, but they’re only malicious to those that hurt their friends and family.  The other boy is Ron.  He’s your age.  He’s always quiet when I see him.  I think you two may get along.  And wouldn’t that blow Aunt Cissy’s mind!”

Draco frowned, “Why would that be unthinkable for Mum?”

Dora giggled, “Because, silly, your father and Ron’s father were mortal enemies at Hogwarts.  If your dad wasn’t in Azkaban you’d be throwing a hissy fit at the thought of going to play quidditch with Weasleys, not almost having a panic attack.”

Draco processed that information.  He didn’t know too much about his father.  Mum rarely spoke about him.  All he really knew was that the man had been a Death Eater and was now serving life in Azkaban for his crimes.  Mum had finally divorced him last year, with Aunt Andy’s help, and taken the rest of his father’s money in the process.  Something about repayment, he hadn’t quite understood.  Draco sometimes wondered what it would have been like to grow up with a father.  If his mum would have smiled more, been happier.

For even he could see the traces of sadness coating all of her smiles.

He decided to change the subject.  He didn’t want to think about his parents right now.  “Will anyone else be there?”

Dora shook her head. “No, Charlie’s older brother, Bill, is out of the country, working for Gringotts. His other brother, Percy, will be hiding in his room, reading books.  His baby sister, Ginny, is supposed to be over at the Lovegoods.  Mrs. Weasley promised to be out of the house, she wanted to make it as easy for you as possible.  And Mr. Weasley will be at work.  You’ve met Charlie, so only three new people.”

Draco thought it over.  He’d met Charlie about two years before.  That had been by accident.  He’d been playing with Dora when the Weasley boy had dropped in unexpectedly.  He’d been frightened until Charlie had begun talking excitedly about how Draco’s name meant dragon and wasn’t that just the best name?  Since, of course, dragons were the best creatures on the planet.  Dora had laughed and threatened to shove Charlie out the window if he didn’t stop prattling on about the same things she’d heard a million times before.

Charlie wasn’t _that_ bad.  His brothers had to be nice. Right?  Plus, he trusted Dora, she wouldn’t make him meet people that would hate him.   And Draco really wanted to get used to being around people.  He wanted so badly to go to Hogwarts next year.  Dora had told him so many amazing stories.  Stories that made his mum roll her eyes, but smile all the same.

And he couldn’t go to Hogwarts if just the idea of being around strangers, especially magical strangers, made him panic.

He could do this.

He could meet Charlie’s brothers and play quidditch.

“I can go home at any time?” he asked, hating the tremor that was in his voice.

Dora gave him a brilliant smile, her hair becoming a bright pink.  “Of course!  Just say the word and we’ll leave, okay?”

He nodded and squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath, “Okay, let’s go.”

oXoXoXo

“Now, if you three say or do _anything_ , _anything_ at all, to upset Draco I will personally ensure your demise.  Understand?”

Charlie’s words were so harsh that they could have come from one of those dragons he loved talking about so much.  Ron gulped and nodded quickly, seeing Fred and George do the same.  Looks of fear on their faces that matched his own feelings.

Charlie very rarely joined in on their family squabbles, but when he did they never lasted long.  There was just something about his typically quiet, introverted personality that became very scary.

“Good, now stay here.  I’m gonna go meet them at the floo.”

He turned and strode towards the house, his quidditch robes fluttering behind him.  Ron watched him go and then looked up at the twins.  “Is he that scary at Hogwarts?”

“No, dear brother—”

“—he is not that scary.  He—”

“—is actually scarier.  You should—”

“—be grateful he leaves after this year.”

“Yes, lucky ickle-Ronnikins gets to—”

“—avoid having the big bad Charlie—”

“—at Hogwarts with him.”

Ron scowled and shoved away from his brothers as they snickered loudly.  Merlin, he couldn’t wait until they were back at Hogwarts!  Ginny may be annoying, but at least she wasn’t a prat!  He was halfway to the house when he remembered he was supposed to wait on the field with the twins.  They didn’t want to scare Tonks’ little cousin.  Apparently he grew nervous around strangers or some such rot.  Ron had trouble picturing it.  He’d heard his father speak once or twice about his old nemesis Lucius Malfoy.  That man had apparently been very social and smooth, ruling the Ministry from the background before he’d failed to prove the Imperius curse.  Hard to imagine that his son would be terrified of strangers.

Not that Ron was supposed to know any of this.  Wasn’t his fault his parents could never talk quietly.  Even when the house was silent with only two children instead of the normal seven.

With a grumble he continued on to the house.  The twins would just laugh if he turned around now.  Better to go in and use the loo or something.  He’d just have to make an excuse for disobeying Charlie.

Hopefully that would be enough to save him from death.

Entering the kitchen he heard quiet voices from the sitting room.  Trying not to draw attention, he crept up the stairs, stepping over the creaking one and only breathing a sigh of relief when he was safely on the second floor.  If he made any noise up here Charlie would just assume it was Percy walking around his room.

Sometimes it was useful to have siblings, but most of the time they were a menace.  

Reaching the toilet he pushed the door open and froze.

Standing in front of the sink, was a pale, blond-haired boy.  The boy, had to be Draco Malfoy, had his eyes squeezed shut and was gripping the porcelain sink tightly.

“You alright?”

Ron’s voice bounced around the small room, making Malfoy jump and stumble backwards, his eyes going wide.  He was shaking like a leaf and breathing heavily as he took in Ron’s appearance.

Ron took a step backwards and raised his hands, trying to show he wasn’t a threat.  

“Hey, you’re Draco Malfoy, right?  Tonks’ cousin?”

Malfoy blinked and took a deep breath, his grey eyes focusing on Ron’s own blue ones.  Ron held steady, wondering what was going on, but his own self-preservation telling him to not make any sudden movements.

After several minutes the other boy’s breathing slowed down and there was a sudden release of tension that Ron hadn’t really noticed before.

Malfoy took a deep, shuddering breath.  “Yes.  I’m Draco Malfoy.  Just call me Draco.  Who are you?”

Ron smiled tentatively and held out his hand, “I’m Ronald Weasley.  Call me Ron.”

Draco stared at the extended hand for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it.  Then, very slowly, he moved forward and held out his own hand.  

“Nice to meet you, Draco,” Ron said, taking the other boy’s hand in his own.

The blond boy nodded slowly, a hesitant smile creeping across his pale features.  “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Ron’s own smile widened, taking over his face as they shook hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this lived up to expectations. And, no, there's no deep seated reason for Draco having anxiety. It's just the result of how isolated he was growing up, his first impressions of the wizarding world, and the fact that even canon Draco was always easily frightened. And he didn't get treatment until after the incident in Flourish and Blotts. 
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Eleventh Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a birthday party. Narcissa socializes. Tonks and Draco go shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my awesome betas. Especially to Saint Dionysus, who just agreed to help beta :D Ya'll are the best!

“Happy Birthday!!!”

The words echoed through the garden and Draco forced a happy smile on his face.  Truly, he was grateful to spend his birthday with so many people that cared about him, but he still wasn’t comfortable being around _so_ many people.  It helped that he was in a safe space; only those he and his mum permitted were in attendance.  

Everyone began to sing and he watched as he his mum approached, levitating a scrumptious-looking chocolate cake in front of her.  Brilliant green lettering spelled out his name on top of the dark chocolate icing; barely visible under eleven golden candles.

His mum’s loving eyes met his when he looked up from the cake and he immediately relaxed, his smile slipping into something more genuine.  Dora made him chuckle when she slipped an arm around his shoulders and whispered in his ear, “Whatcha gonna wish for?”

He turned and gave her a mock glare, “If I tell it won’t come true.  And, no, I don’t owe you.  We already waited to celebrate my birthday ‘til you got out of school.”

She threw her head back and laughed, her newly shorn hair flashing through a multitude of colors.  Draco watched in amusement, still as entranced with her metamorphmagus abilities now as he had been at the age of six.

Before she got a chance to respond his mum set the cake down on the table right in front of him.  

“C’mon!  All at once now!” Ron said beside him, looking hungrily at the cake.

Draco snickered, but did as asked, feeling grateful he’d managed all eleven in one blow.  He kept worrying that one year there would just be too many candles for him to do all at once.   _And then how would he get his yearly wish?_

With that thought he closed his eyes and cast up his wish.  Just on the off chance it came true.

He really, really wanted his first year at Hogwarts to go well.  He wanted a first year like Dora had had.  He wanted to make more friends and not be judged for what crimes his father had committed.  

He _especially_ didn’t want to have a panic attack in the middle of the Great Hall.

“Here.”

He opened his eyes and focused on the icing coated candle hovering in front of him.  Ron had one in his mouth already and was kindly offering him one.  Draco smiled and took it, delighting in the tangy lemon icing as his mum sliced up pieces for everyone.

oXoXoXo

Narcissa had to stop herself from moaning in delight as the chocolate cake practically melted in her mouth, mixed perfectly with the tangy lemon icing.  Aside from the occasional platter of biscuits with tea she rarely indulged in sweets.  Too many years of her mother admonishing her for putting on a single pound over the term at Hogwarts.  Or being forced to shed her robes and prove that her underclothes still fit perfectly with no unacceptable tightness.

Andy’s rich chuckle had Narcissa opening her eyes and shooting her sister a nasty glare.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.  I still can’t believe you managed to make Draco love the same odd cake combination as you.  Uncle Alphard would be proud he’s managed to corrupt another generation.”

Narcissa sniffed delicately and then, as quick as a snake, stuck her tongue out at her sister, making said sister laugh all the harder.

“I saw that.”

Ted’s quietly amused voice slipped into their conversation as he pulled up his own chair, taking a seat and digging into his own slice of cake.  Frank followed him, his calm gaze unsettling Narcissa as it always did.  Muggle psychologists shouldn’t be able to read more with their own eyes than a mediwitch could see with a spell.  

“Oh, hush, Ted, or I’ll hand Cissy some ammunition on you.  Like that time at Aunt Cathie’s when you—”

Ted glared at his younger brother even as he held up his hands in surrender.  “Okay, okay.  I get it.  No interfering when my wife and sister-in-law choose to act like little children.”

That earned him a playful smack on the arm from Andy’s cloth napkin.  “Just who’s acting like a child?”

He grimaced, “You are.”

That earned him another one and he responded by scooping up a dollop of lemon icing with his finger and planting it directly on her nose.

Andy gasped in mock shock before her eyes narrowed, “Oh!  It’s on now!”

And they were off.  Narcissa didn’t think there would be any cake left by the time they were through.  She sighed and watched them with fondness as she continued to put her own slice of cake to much better use.

“You’d think that they would be more mature.  What with the fact they’re older than us,” Frank commented as he picked up his fork.

Narcissa snorted rather inelegantly.  “Didn’t you once say something about how middle children tend to be immature?”

He smirked, his pale blue eyes twinkling, “You remember that?  Do you always pay so much attention to my lectures on psychology?”

“I pay attention to _everything_.  At one time, that was the only way I could ensure the safety of myself and those I loved.”

He didn’t respond to that, so she took another bite of cake.  Closing her eyes and reveling in the sinful taste.  All too soon her slice was gone.  She sent a small glance over at the remaining cake, wondering if she could get away with a second slice.

She didn’t allow herself to debate it long; it wasn’t like her final decision was a surprise.  If she had another slice of cake she’d only regret it.  Better to just wait until her own birthday.  It would be hard enough to not have Draco around for it.

At the thought of Draco, her eyes immediately zoomed in on him.  He was sitting at another table between Nymphadora and Ronald, listening avidly as Fred and George acted out some story that had poor Ginevra’s face as red as her hair.   _Those boys needed to stop giving their baby sister such a hard time.  How could the Weasley parents allow this to continue?_  Narcissa pushed her chair back and was about to stand, but Frank put a hand on her arm, making her jump.

“Wait.  Watch.”

She bit off a retort as she caught the serious look in his eyes.  Turning she continued to watch.  Then, just as Ginevra looked ready to scream, Draco said something quietly.  Every eye turned to him and he flushed a light pink, but didn’t show any other sign of being so unsure of the attention.  

One of the Weasley twins opened his mouth and made a fast retort.  Draco’s jaw hardened in a way that reminded Narcissa eerily of Lucius.  But he didn’t respond, just stared the twins down, not even noticing Ginevra gazing at him with stars in her eyes.  Ronald said something, casual and slightly humourous from the tone.  Nymphadora made her own comment and then morphed her hair so that it was the exact shade as the four Weasleys.  Ginevra and Draco relaxed, small smiles coming to their faces.  Fred and George scowled for a moment, then looked at each other and shrugged before returning to their earlier, lighter attitude.  

Narcissa turned and looked at Frank curiously, “What—?”

He smiled, “As part of Draco’s therapy we’ve spent a lot of time discussing his friends.  He was very disturbed by how he saw the twins treat their younger two siblings when Charlie or Bill wasn’t around.  It bothered him.  As did the fact that Percy tended to just ignore it when he isn’t the target.  We had several conversations about conflict resolution and creating safe environments.  What he did here wasn’t perfect, but the fact that what he said worked will give him confidence.  Confidence he needs if he’s going to do well away from home at boarding school.  Especially if, as you fear, he’ll be sorted into a different house from Ron.”

Pain squeezed at Narcissa’s heart.  Yes, she was sure Draco would be in a different house from Ronald.  All Weasleys went into Gryffindor.  As had the Prewetts.  And, as she knew from Sirius, family didn’t always determine how one was sorted, but she also knew Ronald fairly well by now.  

He was definitely a Gryffindor.

And Draco most certainly wasn’t.

“Thank you,” she said simply to Frank.  Feeling grateful that Draco now had someone else to talk to.  Even someone that wasn’t really part of the magical world.  

“You’re welcome, though I didn’t do it for you.”  His eyes, no longer twinkling, caught hers.  “Do you know, I was hesitant when Ted asked me to meet with a seven-year-old wizard?  I know that mental health isn’t really dealt with here, not unless it’s caused by magic.  I was afraid the parents would object.  But you haven’t objected to anything.  All you do is ask me why I have him do things.  That’s very hard for most parents to do.  Especially when they were raised to hate the person doing the suggesting.”

Narcissa’s cheeks grew warm and she looked away, ashamed of the person she’d once been, of the person she would still likely be if Lucius hadn’t been convicted.  Looking for a distraction, her gaze found Draco.  He was pushing away from the table and joining the others in grabbing brooms and walking over to the break in the garden hedge.  The fact that Ginevra was joining them was a good sign.  Nymphadora had pitched a fit upon learning that Ginevra never joined them when flying because the Weasley boys refused to let their baby sister play.  Draco and Ronald had spent the last year letting Ginevra fly with them.  The boys claimed it was on Nymphadora’s orders, but Narcissa had overheard them comment a few times on how well the younger girl flew.

“You look serious.”

Andy’s words from across the table drew Narcissa’s gaze away from the children.  She tilted an elegant eyebrow at her cake covered sister, “Well, one of us has to be the adult.”

Ted chuckled, “She has a point, love.  Why don’t we go get cleaned up while the real children fly?  I’m guessing we’ll do gifts when they come back?” He looked at Narcissa and she nodded in agreement, watching the two of them slip off to the house.

“Thank you for inviting me to join all of you,” Frank said softly once they were gone.

She shrugged, “Draco wanted you here.  Besides, you’re family.”

“So my being a muggle doesn’t bother you?”

Old lectures, words passed down by her parents and husband flew through her mind.  So many lies told to her during her lifetime.  It was hard to forget those lectures, but no, she couldn’t say they caused her to feel uncomfortable in Frank’s presence.  Her gaze met his and she let the sincerity of her words slip into her tone.  “Not if it doesn’t bother you.  I’ve had to face a lot of realities over the past decade.  One is the fact that magic failed my son.  Ergo, maybe magic isn’t the best thing in the world.  Perhaps it isn’t the answer to everything.”

His brow rose, “That’s quite the turnaround from what Ted and Dromeda used to say.  Now,” he stood up, changing the subject, “why don’t you give me a tour of your lovely home while the children play?  I can see your house elf over there, waiting to clean up.”

Indeed, Dobby was hovering nearby in the shadow of a tree, looking eager to tidy the garden back up.  She smiled and stood, taking the arm Frank offered out to her.  “I’ll be happy to give you a tour.”

He smiled down at her and Narcissa couldn’t help but smile back, even if his gaze did still unsettle her.

oXoXoXo

Draco’s hand formed a fist in his pocket, his short nails digging into his palm, calming him down and keeping him focused.  He shouldn’t be so nervous.  Diagon Alley was basically deserted.  Half the stores weren’t even open yet and there were only two other people on the street with him and Dora.  Besides, no one would know who he was.  No one could judge him.  His mum had glamoured his hair so that it was pitch black.  This made him rather creepy and memorable looking, but no one would think he was a Malfoy.  Combine that with Dora morphing into an appearance quite different from her normal one and they were safe and anonymous

But that didn’t make him feel much better.  Whatever his mum wanted to believe he wasn’t afraid of being recognized or judged.  He was just afraid of lots of strange magical people around him.  Especially in a place he didn’t know inwards and outwards.  

He was never as afraid when he and his mum were in muggle Britain.  Something that Uncle Frank couldn’t quite explain.  Since typically people with a fear of crowds had a fear of all crowds, not just certain groups.

“Oi, you ready?  Flourish and Blotts is open.  We can get your books first.  Don’t think anyone is in there at all.”

He grinned at the fact that Dora was still unable to change her speech mannerisms as easily as she changed her appearance.  It had to annoy her Auror trainers to no end.

“Yes, let’s get that over with,” he said, taking a step towards the store.  She quickly followed him and they got to work.

It was the end of July and, while everyone had gotten their Hogwarts letters a week earlier, quite a few students still had to do their shopping.  The stores became crowded quickly and Draco was forced to hold onto Dora’s hand every time they left a store.  It was hard, but he managed to focus on her and not on everyone else bumping them as they pushed through the crowd and finally entered the last shop: Ollivanders.

The wand shop was deserted when they entered and Draco took a deep breath, releasing Dora’s hand and simply soaking in the glorious silence.  He was halfway through relaxing all of his muscles when a slight shift in the air had him opening his eyes.  An old man with hair even more silvery than Draco’s own had appeared.  They studied each other for a moment before the old man gave a whispery smile.

“Ah, I wondered if I would be seeing you Mr. Malfoy.  There was some doubt as to where your mother would send you to school.  Still going to Hogwarts?”

Draco nodded, his throat suddenly tight and dry.  But, surprisingly, he had no trouble breathing.

“Oi, Ollivander, be nice to my cousin.  He ain’t had an easily time of it,” Dora said, striding over and leaning casually on the counter between Draco and the shop owner.

Ollivander’s wild eyebrows rose, but he didn’t spare Dora a glance.  “I shall keep that in mind, Miss Tonks.  Now, how about we get this young man a wand?  Which is your wand arm?”

“Right,” Draco managed to whisper and swallowing and clearing his throat, willing it to work.

Ollivander turned and began pulling boxes off of shelves, diving into and out of long aisles Draco had trouble seeing if he stared at them for too long.  A string began measuring Draco as he waited, each measurement resulting in a different box being pulled off a shelf.  Finally he returned to the counter, a stack of about a dozen boxes in his arms.

“Now, let’s see.  Try this one.”

He thrust a wand out and Draco took it, it was swiped back just as quickly.  “No, definitely not an elm wand.  Perhaps the father’s wood…”

He stuck several of the boxes to the side and handed Draco another wand.  He took this one back just as quickly and then disappeared into the aisles again, leaving the ten other wands untouched.  More boxes appeared, more wands were tried.  All sorts of wands, Draco was beginning to feel exhausted.  The stress of the day and dealing with all the people in Diagon Alley getting to him.  Only his good manners kept him from groaning as Ollivander yanked the hundredth wand out of Draco’s hand.

“No, that simply won’t do.  Hm, let’s see…”

He went to another shelf, one he hadn’t visited before and pulled off several boxes.  He opened one and handed it to Draco.  Instantly, he could tell this wand was different from the others.  He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get a chance before Ollivander yanked it back and scurried over to that shelf again, pulling out another box.

“That was close, but here, try this.”

As soon as the wood touched Draco’s skin he knew this was it.  He gave it a swish and sparks emerged.  A smile took over his face, he felt happier and safer than he had since he’d first left the house with Dora that morning.

“Twelve and a quarter inches, willow wood, with a core of dragon heartstring.  Quite a unique pairing.  Willow tends not to pair well with dragon heartstring.  Much prefers unicorn hair.  A rather unique mix you have there, Mr. Malfoy.  Something tells me you have a long way to go with that wand, but it will stand you in good stead.”

Draco simply nodded, staring down at his wand, running his fingers over the smooth surface as Dora paid for it.  He wasn’t allowed to use it, but he couldn’t help but pull out the belt holster they’d purchased earlier and slip it onto his belt.  He settled the wand into it, taking comfort in its presence.  When he looked up he saw that Ollivander had disappeared, all the wand boxes once more put away.  Dora was watching him, a sad smile on her face.

“Yes?” he asked her, wondering how she could feel so sad when he felt so splendid.

“You feel safer with the wand, don’t you?”  

Not wanting to give voice to his feelings in such a public place, he simply shrugged, “Was that everything?” He moved to pull the school list out of his robes.  

She eyed him knowingly, but didn’t call him out on his avoidance.  Instead taking the list from his hands and scanning it quickly.  “Yes.  Aunt Narcissa already got you an owl, so we can just head back to the Leaky and floo home.”

“Cool.”

They two of them slipped out of the shop, Draco holding on to her hand once more, though he didn’t feel nearly as afraid as he had before.  How could one little slip of wood make him feel so different?

But it wasn’t just a slip of wood, was it?

It was a wand.

His wand.

The boy — no — _wizard_ grinned and stood up straighter before he began to move through the magical crowd with more confidence than he’d ever had previously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, last chapter before Draco and Ron head off to Hogwarts and widen their world even more. Not to mention meeting some important people on the train... And if you're curious about the meaning of Draco's wand, go check it out on Pottermore ;)
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoy! Sorry it's going up a bit later. Yesterday was my birthday and I ended up having no time to get the actual chapter prepped to go up last night.


	4. Train to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa bids her son farewell. Draco meets some new people on the Hogwarts Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to SaintDionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 for beta-reading this. :)
> 
> Some of the lines in this chapter were taken directly from PS (SS).

Crowds of people poured through the station, each one on their own journey.  All equally important, and yet utterly meaningless to Narcissa.

Her son was leaving her today.  

She knew it wasn’t forever, that he would be back in a few months.  Yet her heart still hurt as she followed him.  His blond head held high as he pushed his trolley through the crowds.  It was easy for her to see the tension in him.  The paleness of his fingers where he gripped the trolley.  The purposeful way which with he walked.  

She’d seen his father walk that way — typically when he was going to face his own father; or, later, the Dark Lord.

It was good that her son’s worst moment was going to Hogwarts.  She knew he wouldn’t have it easy.  It didn’t matter what house he went into, he’d always find people that judged him for the sins of his father.

She was as sure of that as she was of her love for him.

Still, he wouldn’t be entirely alone.  The Weasley boys liked him, they’d look out for him as much as they could.  And Dumbledore, fool that he was, wouldn’t allow any true harm to come to Draco.  Not when her son was so close to the Weasleys and Tonks.  Families that had supported—

“Mum?”

She blinked, her gaze focusing on Draco.  He had stopped and turned slightly, looking back at her curiously.

“Yes, my dragon?”

“This is it, right?”

Looking past him she could see the barrier between platforms nine and ten.  “Yes.  Do you want to go through it at a run?”

He smiled hesitantly and shook his head, “No.  I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Without another word he turned back around, squared his shoulders, and strode forward purposefully.

A moment later he was gone.

She felt like crying.

What would she do without his face at the breakfast table every morning?  He was the reason she’d held herself together a decade before.  What would she do with all of her time now?

She honestly didn’t know.  That uncertainty was not nearly as strong as her sadness at seeing her son leave for school, but it was a close second.  She was a mother first and foremost and it was hard to be a mother when her son would be gone for months at a time.

Narcissa took a deep breath, breathing in the smells of humanity, drawing strength from those that walked so purposefully around her.

She could do this.  Draco needed her to smile.  To step through the barrier.  Wish him well on his journey and send him off with all the strength she could lend.  

Yes.  She’d do this with a smile on her face.  Crying could wait until she was home again.

Throwing back her shoulders, standing as tall as her stature would allow, she strode towards the barrier.  

She could do this.

oXoXoXo

Draco peered out of the compartment at the crowded platform.  Over the past half hour it had slowly filled up.  Parents and students mixing until there was nothing but a sea of humanity.  Similar and yet so different from the sea outside of the barrier.  The plethora of robes and wands made him sweat nervously.  He knew the fear was irrational, he’d never been attacked by a wizard or witch.  Uncle Frank thought it was a slight fear of the Ministry wizards and witches that had visited when he was young.  Grown out of proportion because he had spent so many years sequestered, with only family and Muggles around him.

But that was cold comfort as Draco didn’t really care _why_ he had the fear.  He just wanted it to go away.

A burst of red drew his eyes to the barrier and he saw the twins appear right behind Percy.  He couldn’t help but smile.  Percy immediately strode towards the front of the train, likely eager to put on his robes and shiny prefect’s badge.  The twins moved with much less care, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greeted old friends and surreptitiously dropped things in people’s pockets.  

There would likely be quite a few screams soon.

He looked back at the barrier, waiting for Ron, but, instead, a black-haired boy in oversized clothes came bursting through the barrier at a full run.  The boy slowly came to a stop, opening his eyes and looking around in amazement.

Draco had never seen anyone look at the world quite like that before.  As if it was, well, _magical_.

A streak of red drew his eyes away from the black-haired boy and he smiled to see Ron arrive.  The boy stopped and looked up and down the train.  Slowly, Draco raised his hand waved it through the window, a snowy-white handkerchief clutched in his sweaty fingers.

Ron smiled and began pushing through the crowd with his trolley.  Draco watched his friend move so easily through the crowd, jealously wishing he could do the same.

“Um, hello.”

Draco jumped and looked down, seeing the black-haired boy from before standing on the platform.  A heavy looking trunk and a snowy white owl in a cage resting at his feet.

He opened his mouth to respond, but found it to be as dry as a desert.  He snapped it and swallowed hard, trying to dredge up some moisture.  Struggling to find the ability to speak to this stranger.  

“Oh, uh, sorry.”  The boy turned, grabbing his trunk with one hand and owl with the other, prepared to move away.

Draco began to panic.   _No!  He didn’t want this boy to go!  He wanted friends!  He wanted people to like him!_  His collar began to grow tight, his breath sped up, hurriedly he stood up and reached out, eager to stop this boy from leaving.

But, before his hand made contact a comfortingly familiar voice cut through the buzzing rapidly filling his ears.  “Oi!  Want a hand?”

The boy stopped, turning to look at the twin.

“Uh, no, I’m going to another compartment.  He doesn’t want —”

“NO!” Draco burst out, finally finding his voice now that a familiar face was there.

The black-haired boy turned and stared in disbelief up at Draco.  “What, but, you—”

Draco shook his head, beginning to feel more like himself as Ron and the other twin joined them.  He could see Mrs. Weasley and Ginny not too far away.  His mum was already long gone.  They’d been the first to arrive on the platform and she hadn’t wanted to draw any negative attention towards him.  All of the Tonks family had work, so had said their goodbyes the day before.  He rather wished they were here, he’d feel so much better knowing more people, even if they couldn’t join him on the train.

“No, sorry, I, uh, well, it’s okay if you sit here.  I’m just, uh —”

“He’s just nervous with strangers,” Ron said.  Jumping in and rescuing Draco.  He gave the black-haired boy a big smile.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Ron Weasley and that’s Draco Malfoy.  You’re welcome to sit with us.  We’re first years.”

The twins snorted.  “Do you see that, Fred?”

“Indeed I do, George.  Our little Ronniekins—”

“—all grown up and making friends!”

Fred opened his mouth to say something else, but Draco hurriedly asked, “Uh, Fred, can you help with the trunks?  Your mum is almost here…”

The twins glanced back at the crowd and grimaced at the sight of their mother.  Hurriedly they moved forwards, forcing the black-haired boy to step back with Ron.  The twins had just finished putting the trunks up next to Draco’s when Mrs. Weasley arrived, Ginny right beside her.

The Weasley matron zeroed in on Ron, pulling out her handkerchief.  “Ron, you’ve got something on your nose.”

Ron tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

“ _Mum_ — geroff.” He wriggled free and Draco couldn’t help but snicker, feeling more at ease than he had all morning.

One of the twins — George, Draco thought — opened his mouth to say something snarky, but was halted by Mrs. Weasley catching sight of the black-haired boy.

“Why, hello again, dear.  Riding with Ron and Draco?”

The boy nodded, looking as overwhelmed as Draco had been earlier.

Mrs. Weasley smiled, “That’s nice.  Now, where’s Percy?”

“He’s coming now,” said Ginny, pointing towards the front of the train.

Percy, like Draco, had already changed into his robes.  His shiny red-and-gold prefect badge was on his puffed out chest.  

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said.  “I’m up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves —”

“Oh, are you a pre—”

George was abruptly cut off by Draco pointedly clearing his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.  

He pointed at his muggle wristwatch, “It’s almost eleven.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up at the platform clock.  “Oh dear, yes.  Well, everyone give me a hug.”  She kissed Percy on the cheek and he hurriedly left, striding towards the front of the train.  Next she looked at the twins.  “Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves.  If I get one more owl telling me —”

“Yes, yes, mum, we _know_.”  The twins said impatiently; hopping into the compartment before promptly sitting down on the opposite side.  They sprawled so as to take up the entire bench.  Draco smiled faintly.

“Have a good year, Draco,” Mrs. Weasley said, giving him a comforting smile before turning her gaze on Ron.  “Now, you be good Ron.  Watch after Draco and have a good time.”

Draco shared a grimace with Ron.  Mrs. Weasley was convinced that Draco was delicate and needed protecting.  She couldn’t seem to grasp that his problems only arose when he was in large magical crowds or meeting new people.

“And it was nice to meet you, dear.”  Mrs. Weasley said to the black-haired boy after giving Ron a breath stealing hug.  

The black-haired boy smiled nervously and he turned to follow Ron into the compartment, but was stopped by Ginny reaching out and rather rudely grabbing his over-sized t-shirt.

“What’s your name?”

“Uh, Harry Potter.”

Ginny’s eyes grew wide.  “Really?”

He nodded nervously and Ginny opened her mouth to say something more, but the train whistle blew.  Still, the stubborn girl held onto the boy’s — no — _Harry Potter’s_ shirt.  

“Hurry up!” Mrs. Weasley said, grabbing Ginny’s hand and trying to yank her away from Potter.  But Ginny was stubborn and determined.  

“Will you —”

Sighing, knowing how stubborn Ginny could be, Draco shared a look with Ron.  The other boy rolled his eyes and then, as one, the two of them grabbed Harry Potter’s arms and pulled him out of Ginny’s grasp and into the compartment.  Smiling, looking down at Ginny’s face and ignoring the crowded platform as best he could, Draco said, “Later, Ginny.  See you at Christmas.  Bye, Mrs. Weasley.”  He quickly pulled the door shut, locking it firmly.

“Bye, Mum!” The twins and Ron chorused loudly as the train began to move.  As they began to pick up speed Mrs. Weasley waved, looking emotional.  Ginny looked teary-eyed as she began to run along the side of the train, waving and laughing.  Draco caught her eye and waved, focusing on her rather than anyone else.  

He felt secure with his wand on his hip and his friends surrounding him, but it was easier to be himself if he only focused on them.

“So, are you _really_ Harry Potter?” Ron asked rather bluntly, taking a seat beside Draco as he pulled Scabbers out of his pocket.

“Um, yes?” Harry said hesitantly.

“Really?” Fred asked.

“Do you really have the scar?” George asked.

The boy nodded and reached up, pushing up his bangs and revealing a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

Draco instantly felt miserable.  There was _no way_ Harry Potter would be friends with the son of a Death Eater.

So much for that.

“Wicked,” the twins said together, staring intently at the scar.  

Potter began to turn red and Draco, despite his own disappointment couldn’t help but say, “It is not wicked.”

The twins looked at him in surprise, “Oh, really?”

“Then please, young Malfoy”

“Tell us why it isn’t wicked”

Draco’s own face heated, but these were the twins.  He could say anything to them.  They would never do more than slip some newt eyes in his pocket or drop itching powder in his shoes.

“Because, it’s from that night.  Why would losing his mum and —” he stopped and swallowed sharply, “dad be something good?”

“He’s right,” Ron said after a moment of awkward silence, looking pointedly at the twins.  “Now, did you two say Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula you wanted to see?  Wanted to tell _Charlie_ and Tonks about it?”

The twins grimaced but stood up, casually brushing off their robes.  Fred said, “You’re right, little Ronnie.  We do have a tarantula to look at.”

“Indeed,” added George, looking at Potter.  “It was a pleasure meeting you Harry.  We’re Fred and George Weasley.  Feel free to look us up if you need any mischief managed.”

“Uh, sure.  Nice meeting you,” murmured Harry.

The twins slipped out of the compartment, closing the sliding door before striding off towards the front of the train.  The three younger boys watched them go before Potter took a seat on the now empty opposite bench.

“Er — what are your names again?  I didn’t catch them,” Potter asked.

“I’m Ron Weasley and this is my best mate, Draco Malfoy,” Ron said proudly, sticking his hand out for Potter to shake.

Potter stared at the hand for a moment before hesitantly reaching out and shaking it.  Ron grinned eagerly, “So, how much do you know about magic?  I heard you went to live with Muggles.”

“Uh, not much.  Are you two from wizarding families?”

“Er — yes, I think so.  My mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we hardly see him.  Draco, though, his aunt married a muggle-born, so he’s got lots of Muggle family members.  His Uncle Frank is the best of the lot.  Nothing about magic really phases him anymore.  Says nothing could surprise him after he watched his niece morph at only a few days old.”

Potter frowned, “Morph?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron answered.  “Tonks is a metamorphmagus.  She can change her features at will.  When you meet her you’ll have to ask her to show you.”

Potter shook his head, “Oh, no, I couldn’t ask that!  Wouldn’t it be rude?”

Draco shook his head, feeling a bit more relaxed now.  “No.  Dora loves showing off.  It’s one of her favorite things to do.”

“Dora is Tonks,” Ron explained quickly, seeing the confusion on Potter’s face, “but only Draco is allowed to call her that.  She much prefers her surname, Tonks.”

“Ah.  Well, you two must know loads of magic already.  I’m afraid I don’t know anything.”  Potter stared at the robes Draco was already wearing, his emerald eyes focusing on the wand resting on Draco’s hip.

That made Draco nervous, though he didn’t think Potter would steal his wand.  The other boy had his own wand, right?  He couldn’t want Draco’s.  That was just ridiculous.

“You’re fine,” Ron said smiling.  “No one can really learn magic before Hogwarts.  I mean, we know things you don’t, but none of us know everything.  So, what were the Muggles like?  The ones you grew up with?  Only Muggle I know is Mr. Frank.”

“Horrible — well, not all of them.  My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though.  Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.  And a best mate.” The last line was said so quietly that Draco barely heard it.  

It was horrible, the feelings that last line brought to him.  He felt bad that Potter had no best mate.

And yet…and yet did that mean Potter was as desperate for friends as Ron and Draco?  Would he be okay with being friends with the son of a Death Eater?

It was too much to hope for.

“Five,” Ron said gloomily.  “There are two more outside of Hogwarts already.  Bill and Charlie.  I’m the youngest.  Draco here, though, he’s an only child.”

“And yet I wish I had your brothers, too,” Draco said honestly.

“But not Ginny?” Ron asked, his eyes gaining a mischievous twinkle that banished his earlier gloominess.

Draco snorted, “Your sister is a menace.  If I’m in the same House as her I’ll never be on the quidditch team once she’s old enough to try-out.”

Ron didn’t deny it.

“Was that your sister?”  Potter asked.  “The one on the platform?”

“Yep, she’ll be at Hogwarts next year.”

Draco mustered up his courage and looked at Potter, meeting his gaze for the first time.

_Wow.  Those eyes are memorable._

He forced a friendly smile out, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.  “So, Potter, what house do you think you’ll be in?”

“Call me Harry, and I dunno.  I heard my parents were in Gryffindor.  Also that all bad wizards were Slyther—”

“My mum was a Slytherin.  As was my aunt.” Draco cut in, trying to stop Harry from thinking badly about those he loved.  “Slytherins aren’t bad.  They’re just cunning.  And ambitious.  My aunt was cunning enough to hide her love for my uncle until she could elope.  My grandparents didn’t approve.  My mum used it to survive being married to a Dea—”  He cut himself off abruptly and grew quiet.  Ron had never judged him for his father.  Not after they’d met.

Harry frowned.  “A Dea?  What’s a Dea?”

Draco’s hands clenched in his robes and he looked down, his heart hammered in his chest and he focused on controlling his breathing.

“He meant a Death Eater.  One of the followers of You-Know-Who,” Ron supplied helpfully.

“Oh.  You mean Voldemort?”

Ron and Draco gasped.

“What?” said Harry.

“ _You said You-Know-Who’s name!_ ” said Ron, his voice filled with the same emotions Draco felt.  “I’d have thought you, of all people —”

“I’m not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name,” said Harry, “I just never knew you shouldn’t.  See?  I bet I have loads to learn.  I bet I’m the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be,” Ron said hurriedly in response to the uncertainty and fear in Harry’s voice.  

“Yeah, loads of people come from Muggle families,” Draco said, feeling less worried.  Harry hadn’t even commented on Draco’s heritage.

While they had been talking they’d been carried out of London.  The train was speeding past fields full of a variety of livestock.  The sight made Draco feel homesick for his own bedroom.  From the window he could see several pastures that bordered on their property.  He was sure Scotland would look quite different.

After a while longer the compartment door slid open to reveal a smiling, dimpled woman.  “Anything off the cart, dears?”

Ron and Draco both shook their heads, pulling out the lunches their respective mothers had sent them with.  Draco knew Ron’s likely contained corned beef, but also knew that Dobby had sent more food than Draco could have ever eaten.  It would be easy to share with Ron and not make him feel bad.

Harry, on the other hand, had leapt to his feet and was quickly pulling out coins and buying practically everything on the cart.  

Ron and Draco stared at the black-haired boy rather jealously, if for very different reasons.

“Hungry, are you?” Ron asked.

“Starving,” said Harry.  “I didn’t get any breakfast.”

Ron unwrapped his lunch.  The contents were no surprise to Draco.  

“She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”

“Ron, you’re welcome to some of mine.  Dobby always packs too much,” Draco said, unwrapping his rather large lunchbox.  He revealed a stack of sandwiches ranging from a delicate chicken salad to grilled ham and cheese.  There was also a variety of sliced veggies and fruits.  Draco grimaced.  His mum had refused to give him money for the trolley, saying he’d get enough unhealthy food at the feast that night.

That was no consolation when Harry Potter was sitting across from him, stuffing a cauldron cake in his mouth.

“Thanks,” Ron said, giving Harry’s stack of sweets a yearning look before grabbing one of the chicken salad sandwiches.  

Draco started to reach for a ham and cheese one but paused when he realized Harry was looking at the stack as hungrily as Ron had been eyeing the sweets.

“Want one?” Draco asked, holding out the box.

“Trade you?” Harry replied, gesturing at the pile of sweets.  “You too, Ron.”

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” said Ron, gesturing at the half-unwrapped sandwiches lying besides Scabbers.

Harry grabbed one of Draco’s sandwiches and then tossed Ron one of his sweets.  “Go on, have a pasty.”

After that it was on.  The three of them devoured Draco’s stack of sandwiches and Harry’s sweets.  The corned beef and fresh produce lay forgotten, except for the few pieces Ron fed to Scabbers.

It was amusing to watch Harry unwrap each magical sweet.  Draco had rarely had any of them, but even he knew what each one was.  Harry’s reaction to the Dumbledore Chocolate Frog Card was stupendous.  Especially as Ron and Draco still found it weird that muggle pictures didn’t move.

Eventually all that was left were the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.  The three of them were halfway through a bag as they each tried to guess flavors when there was a knock at the compartment door.

Draco immediately tensed, his hand moving to rest comfortably on his wand.  The door opened to reveal a round-faced boy with tears in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

When they shook their heads, he wailed, “I’ve lost him!  He keeps getting away from me!”

“He’ll turn up,” said Harry.

“Yes,” said the boy miserably.  “Well, if you see him…”

He left and Draco relaxed, moving his hand away from his wand.

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” said Ron.  “Toads are even worse than rats.  I mean, I have Scabbers and he’s practically worthless.  Only good for keeping my hands warm in the winter.”

“Or for testing your food and drink when the twins look too pleased with themselves,” Draco added.  He was grateful he had an owl.  He supposed a cat wouldn’t be that bad, though they couldn’t carry letters for you.

“Do your brothers do that often?”  Harry asked, looking worried.

Ron shrugged, grabbing another bean.  “Fairly regularly.  They’ve got a knack for creating chaos.”

Just then the door slid open again, this time very firmly.  Draco jumped, his head whipping to look at the new intruder, his hand going back to his wand.

Standing in the door the toadless boy again, but beside him was a young witch, already in her robes.  She had a mess of bushy brown hair and when she spoke he couldn’t help but notice her rather large front teeth.  Reminded him a bit of the rabbits that occasionally entered the garden at Coelum Court.

She also had a very bossy voice.

“Has anyone seen a toad?  Neville’s lost one.”

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but she wasn’t listening.  Instead her gaze had caught on Draco and the hand that was currently wrapped around his wand.

“Oh, were you going to cast a spell?  Let’s see it, then.”

She sat down beside Harry, staring intently at Draco.  His hands grew clammy and his heart began to pound.  It felt as if the all the air was being sucked out through the open compartment door.

“Well?” she asked.

Draco couldn’t move, couldn’t say a word.  The silence in the compartment stretched on until she pointedly cleared her throat.  That drove Ron to speak up.

“Oi! Lay off him.  He’s just shy.  And he didn’t plan to cast a spell.  Don’t think he knows any.”

“Really?  I’ve tried a few simple spells, just for practice.  He’s already in his robes so I thought he’d be like me.  Well, maybe not like me exactly.  No one in my family’s magic at all.  It was a tremendous surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard — I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

She said all of this so fast that Draco thought it had to have all been in one breath.  He didn’t understand how anyone could talk so easily to a group of strangers.  He envied this strange girl.   _Who memorized all of their course books?_  His mum had only allowed him to read the first few chapters of each before pointedly suggesting he go out and play or visit Ron.  

Still, her ease made him relax a bit and he moved his hand away from his wand.  Even as he shared a look with Ron and Harry.  From their looks he could tell that neither of them had learned their course books by heart either.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.

“Harry Potter,” said Harry.

“Are you really?” said Granger.

And then she was off again, going on about all the books she’d read about Harry in.  Draco was afraid to tell her his name.  He’d never looked to find out if his father was listed in any of the books about the last war.  Rather unsurprisingly, she left as quickly as she had arrived — after a suggestion that Ron and Harry change into robes.  

Draco found himself to be very relieved that she never seemed to notice he’d never offered his own name.

“Well, whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron, grabbing another bean and relaxing against his seat.

“What House do you think you’ll be in?”  Harry asked curiously.

“Likely Gryffindor.  Every Weasley is in Gryffindor.  Dunno what my parents would say if I wasn’t in it.” He looked down for a moment, hands fiddling nervously with the edge of his shirt.  “Your parents were in Gryffindor, too, right?”

“Yeah.  Hope I’m there, though I suppose any would be fine.  What about you, Draco?”  Harry’s emerald eyes were now focused on Draco.

Surprisingly his gaze didn’t bother him so much this time.  Maybe it was because he was so much more relaxed than that Granger girl.

“Not sure.  My parents were Slytherin, but I’m not really like them.  Don’t really have any ambition or cunning.  So,” he shrugged, “guess we’ll see.”

“Yep, won’t be too much longer” said Ron, looking out the window nervously.

Draco followed his gaze.  The countryside rushed by, much wilder than before.  It looked rather spooky under the darkening sky, making Draco wish once more he was back home, looking out at the soft English countryside.

Ron was right, it wouldn’t be long until they’d be at Hogwarts.  It was all he could do to continue taking deep, even breaths.

He wouldn’t panic.

He _couldn’t_ panic.

With great effort he forced his fears out of his mind and turned his attention back to Ron and Harry, who were changing into their robes.  It would all be alright.  He had friends beside him and his wand on his hip.  No one was going to cast magic on him.  Especially in front of all the teachers.

 _He would be fine._  

All he had to do was keep telling himself that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco has now met Harry, Hermione and Neville. And I'd say one of those meetings went better than the others, wouldn't you? If you're curious about the train layout and why it may seem odd to most modern train riders, go check out my tumblr. I made a post about old trains and the info I got from book 1. Next up, the arrival at Hogwarts and the Sorting. 
> 
> So, who do you think will be the same as canon and who will be different? If different, where will they be?
> 
> Enjoy!


	5. Sorted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone finds their home at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to SaintDionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 for beta-reading this. :) Some of the lines in this chapter were taken directly from PS (SS). Basically all of those spoken by teachers and a few by students.

“It’s beautiful…”

Draco turned his head to stare at the bushy-haired girl from on the train.  She had a look on her face that he could only describe as hunger.  As if she wanted to devour the entire vast castle.  Its windows were sparkling in the starlight as it sat perched atop a high mountain on the other side of the black lake they all stood on the edge of. Hermione’s expression reminded Draco an awful lot of the look he’d seen on Ron’s face once; the first time Ron had visited Coelum Court.  

That familiarity was the only thing that allowed him to find the words he did.  Allowed him to speak to her as he would to Ginny. “You want this, don’t you?  You want the power — the magic  That’s why you asked me to demonstrate a spell.”

The girl jumped and looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn’t realized he was there.  She studied him, eyes narrowed in the darkness.  “You don’t?”

His cheeks grew heated.  “I do.  But not for the magic.  Or the power.”

“Then what do you want?” Hermione asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

“No more’n four to a boat!” The giant of a man who had been leading them called out.  

His words disrupted Draco’s conversation with the muggle-born girl.  Turning, the blond boy scanned the group of students until he found Ron’s red hair.  The other boy was standing beside a boat, Harry at his side.  

Draco hurried over and climbed into their boat.  He almost had a heart attack when he turned and sat.  Hermione had followed him over, a determined expression on her face as she plopped herself into the last seat on the boat.

“Now, are you going to tell me?” she asked.

“Everyone in?  Right then — FORWARD!” the giant of a man shouted.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but snapped it shut when her eyes once more found the castle.  Draco couldn’t blame her.

It was glorious.

oXoXoXo

Warmth pooled in Hermione’s stomach and energy pulsed under her skin as she watched the castle grow closer and closer.  It towered over them by the time the gigantic man called out for them to watch their heads.  Her boat slipped through a curtain of ivy and down a dark tunnel until they reached a kind of underground harbor.

All thoughts of the quiet blond boy left her head as she saw the gigantic man hold up a toad and ask whose it was.

“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.  Then they all followed the gigantic man up a passageway in the rock, coming out at last onto a field of smooth, damp grass directly in front of the castle door.

Eagerly anticipating what lay ahead of them Hermione moved forward quickly.   Pushing close to the front she was the first to see the stern witch that opened the castle door in answer to the gigantic man’s knock.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.”

“Thank you, Hagrid.  I will take them from here,” said Professor McGonagall.

Hermione soaked in every little detail of the vast Entrance Hall, nearly bumping into Professor McGonagall a time or two as they were led into a small room off the Hall.  Hermione didn’t even glance around the room before focusing her gaze eagerly on Professor McGonagall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said the professor.  “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses.  The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts.  You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.  Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards.  While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points.  At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor.  I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House become yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.  I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Hermione immediately looked down and began adjusting her robes.  She barely heard Professor McGonagall tell them to wait quietly.  She was so excited her hands were beginning to tremble.  

“How do they sort us?”

She looked from her robes, seeing Harry Potter addressing the other two boys he’d been with on the train.

The redhead, Ron she thought, grimaced and said, “Some sort of test.  Fred says it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

The blond wrinkled his nose.  “Fred was joking.  Dora told me it wasn’t a test.  Wouldn’t tell me what though.”

Ron and Harry looked instantly relieved, matching Hermione’s own feelings.  She was sure she could pass any test they gave her, but still, she wasn’t prepared.  And it was always better to be—

“So, Ravenclaw or Slytherin?”  She jumped and looked back at the blond boy, who had moved to stand more by her than his two friends.

“What?”

“Our conversation.  From earlier.  You hunger for what Hogwarts has.  So is it power or knowledge?”

“I — I don’t know,” she said honestly.  She’d never thought about the fact that she wanted such things before.  She just thought she wanted to know things.  To understand the why and the how.  But was it something more?  That didn’t seem likely.  “Besides, I want to be a Gryffindor like Dumbledore.  What about you?  You never answered me.”

He flushed and looked away, back at Ron and Harry, who were now speaking animatedly about what could possibly sort them if it wasn’t a test.  Hermione wasn’t great at reading people.  She’d never understood why no one wanted to be her friend in school.  Why even her academic skills could never make them happy to be in the same group as her on projects.  But she could read this blond boy’s expression.  

Maybe because she’d seen that same expression so often on her own.

“You want friends,” she said simply, answering her own question.

He turned and scowled, “No, I don’t.  I have friends!”

“And I have power and knowledge.  Doesn’t mean I don’t want more, does it?”

“Whatever,” he said, moving back to rejoin Harry and Ron.  

She found herself wondering just what she’d done wrong.  It would be possible to just ask, but she didn’t think the boy would tell her.  It seemed like no one ever answered a question in a straightforward manner.  

Or maybe she just wasn’t asking the right questions.

oXoXoXo

The Hat slipped over Hermione’s eyes and she jumped at the sound of a small voice in her ear.  “Hmm, interesting mind you have here.  A real drive to prove yourself through any means necessary.  Not afraid of hard work.  Quite brave to be facing Hogwarts with so many fears.  A true love of information and a desire to put it to use.  So where shall I put you?”

Her fingernails bit into her palms.   _Please Gryffindor, like Headmaster Dumbledore_.

“Gryffindor, eh?”  said the small voice.  “You really think so?  You are brave, I’ll give you that.  But no, I can see it inside of you — this new realization of yours.  Yes, I must say I’m sure.  You really do have a hunger for what Hogwarts can bring you.  And you have the dreams to match it.  So, better be —”

_But —_

“SLYTHERIN!”

The Great Hall grew instantly quiet as Hermione pulled the Hat off of her head.  Even to her it was obvious that the Slytherins didn’t want her.  

The horrified gazes of the older students were rather obvious.  And it wasn’t hard for her to know why.  She knew from her summer reading that the muggle-borns almost never went into Slytherin.  The last one had been back in the seventies.  She’d really have to prove herself if she wanted to overcome their prejudices.

But what had the boys on the train said?  That they didn’t think that blond boy knew any spells?  And he hadn’t seemed like a muggle-born.  Not with the way he spoke to her later.  So maybe if he didn’t know any than some of her new housemates wouldn’t know any either.  And she did know some.  

She’d just have to do her best to keep that advantage.

Biting her tongue she set the Hat primly on the stool and strode over to Slytherin table.  Only one other first-year sat there.  The girl, Millicent Bulstrode, glared at Hermione as she sat down.

“You’re a muggle-born, aren’t you?” Millicent asked accusingly.

Hermione tilted her chin up and sat up straight, “What is it to you?”

Millicent grunted and then turned towards the front.  Hermione turned as well, looking just in time to see Neville get sorted into Gryffindor.

Next up was Morag MacDougal and then came a Draco Malfoy.  

Hermione recognized that name — well the family name at least.  In the same book she’d first read about Harry Potter in.  Hadn’t Malfoy been one of the supporters of You-Know-Who?

So, it was to her surprise that the blond boy from the train and waiting room step forward.  Whispers ran up and down each of the tables.  But it seemed that most came from the Slytherin table.

Funny.  What had been the son of a Death Eater been doing sitting with Harry Potter on the train?

oXoXoXo

Draco kept his back ramrod straight as the whispers surrounded him.  He could feel the stares, pricking his skin like a million needles.  It was all he could do to control his breathing.  He wanted nothing more than to turn and run from the Great Hall.  To disappear into nothingness and never be seen again.

It was a relief when the Sorting Hat slipped over his eyes.  He could still feel the eyes piercing him, but they were muted.  

The whispers had also completely disappeared.

“Good evening, young Malfoy.”

_Evening._

“Interesting.  Usually you Malfoys are simple.  But you are anything but.  No ambition what so ever.  You’re quite loyal to those you care about.  You work hard to overcome your weaknesses.  Also, a great deal of bravery.”

_I’m not brave._

“No, don’t deny it.  Bravery does not mean an absence of fear, it instead means an overcoming of fear.  Yet you’ve overcome these fears with a lot of hard work.  It’s not hard to see that you should be in HUFFLEPUFF!”

Draco pulled the Hat off his head.  The Hall was quiet for a moment and then one single table burst into cheers.  One handsome student that was only a few years older than Draco leapt to his feet.

“We got Draco Malfoy!  We got Tonks’ cousin!” the handsome boy shouted, leading to several more standing up and cheering.

A wave of happiness rushed through Draco and he felt like crying he was so happy.  He hadn’t really cared what House he went into, but to be in the same place as Dora…

Grinning, finding it much easier to breathe he strode across the Great Hall and took a seat next to a pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails.  

She gave him a friendly smile and then looked back up to the front.  He felt relieved.  He was glad to be in a House that he had only heard good things about, but it was still a disappointment as he didn’t think Harry or Ron would be sorted here.  Sighing, hand slipping down to stroke his wand, he looked back up to the front of the Great Hall.

A number of students were called up — none of them being sent to the Hufflepuff table.  And then it was Harry Potter’s turn.

The whispers that broke out rivaled the ones that had erupted upon the calling of Draco’s own name.

The Hat wasn’t on Harry’s head for very long.  And the word that the Hat called sent an unnatural hush over the Great Hall.

“SLYTHERIN!”

That hadn’t been what Draco was expecting.

Nor was he surprised to see everyone at the Slytherin stable stare at Harry in shock.  Well, except for Hermione Granger.  That girl patted the seat beside her firmly, ordered him to sit down and then resolutely turned her attention back to the rest of the Sorting.

Draco looked at Harry longingly and then turned back to the front.  Now it was time to watch his best mate be separated from him.  Hopefully he’d make new friends in Hufflepuff.

oXoXoXo

Ron fiddled with his robes as Professor Mcgonagall called out, “Turpin, Lisa.”  There was only one other first-year standing beside him.  There was a 50-50 chance that Ron would be next and his earlier fears were rising to the forefront.

He’d always wanted to be a Gryffindor.  If only because his entire family was in that House.  What would his parents say if he wasn’t?  

A small, rebellious part of him wondered if he should care what his parents thought about this.  It wasn’t like he was the favorite.  

He wasn’t even the least favorite.

No, he was just Ron.  Caught in the middle of a large family.  Nothing special until he’d met Draco and gained an amazing friend.  Not important until he’d discovered just how much he meant to one person.  

Could he stand seven years without his best friend beside him in every class?  Could he leave Draco alone in a House with no friends?  Even if it meant sticking with family tradition?

“Weasley, Ronald!”

He stumbled forwards, staring at the Hat intently, willing it to answer his questions.

Nothing happened until he slipped it onto his head.

“Ah, another Weasley.  Well, I know just what to do with you.  It’s always—”

 _NO!_  He shouted the mental word, determined now not to do what every other Weasley always did.  He wasn’t just a Weasley.  He was Ronald Bilius Weasley!  He was an individual and he’d do what he wanted!  Besides, hadn’t he just watched a muggle-born and Harry Potter get sorted into Slytherin?  Hadn’t a Malfoy just gotten into Hufflepuff?  If they could break the mold, why couldn’t he?

“No?  Whyever not?  Gryffindor is where Weasleys go.”

_I want Hufflepuff.  I want to be with Draco._

“Oh.  I see.  Loyalty to your friend.  Determined to stick with him?  You’re right.  Funny I didn’t see that before.  Well, I quite agree with you.  So, better be HUFFLEPUFF!”

Grin splitting his face, Ron yanked off the Hat, tossing it to the only student waiting to be sorted.  He could see his grin matched on Draco’s face as he took a seat to the polite applause of his new housemates.

This was going to be perfect.

oXoXoXo

Narcissa folded up the letter she had just read, her heart felt warmed in a way it hadn’t in years.  That Draco had been cheered…

She owed her niece.  She owed her big time.  Had Nymphadora seen what House best fit Draco when the rest of them had been so blind?  Had she laid the groundwork for her young cousin’s acceptance?

She must have.  Draco had claimed that they cheered for getting Tonks’ cousin.  That thought warmed her heart just as much as the knowledge that Ronald had also ended up in Hufflepuff.

Her son wouldn’t be alone in a House full of strangers.  And it didn’t matter that Ronald had been sorted into Hufflepuff.  He was just as much of a Gryffindor as Nymphadora was apparently a Slytherin.  

He would keep her son safe, in both mind and body.  And in return Draco would be just as steadfastly loyal.

Smiling, she slipped the letter into her robes and headed for the sitting room.  It wasn’t too late, she could still catch Andy and Ted up.  Let them know what had happened at the Sorting.  

Perhaps she’d even catch Nymphadora there.  Her training schedule was terribly unpredictable, but there was always a chance.

oXoXoXo

“What do you say, Ted?  Join me for a football match?  I have two tickets to —”  Frank cut himself off as the fireplace flared, turning a brilliant green before the impeccable Narcissa Black stepped out.

He couldn’t help but give her a appreciative look.  Robes still looked rather odd to him, but they certainly showed off a female’s features quite well.  Especially when paired with such a beautifully aristocratic face.

“Cissy!”  Dromeda exclaimed, “Is everything alright?  How did the Sorting go?”

Narcissa smiled, “It went wonderfully.  Is Nymphadora around?”

Ted shook his head, “No, they’ve got some sort of night exercises planned for this week.  She left about two hours ago.”

“Well, that’s simply unacceptable.  I’ll have to find time to meet with her later this week,” Narcissa said, taking a seat on the other end of the loveseat from Frank.  She gave him a friendly smile, “Good evening, Frank.  I hope I’m not interrupting.”

He shook his head, “Of course not.  I just came over for dinner.  If you’d like I can leave.”  He tensed to stand up, but she reached out and laid a dainty hand on his arm.

“Oh, no, please don’t.  You should hear this as well.  And not just as Draco’s doctor.  You’re family and so deserve to hear what is going on with the Draco.”

Frank smiled, glad to hear her refer to him in such a manner.  

“So, where did Draco end up?” Dromeda asked impatiently.

“Well, on the train, before the sorting, he and Ron befriended another boy,” Narcissa said.  “They met Harry Potter.  The boy apparently doesn’t care who Draco’s father was.  Rather interesting as Potter was sorted into Slytherin.”

“Really?” Dromeda exclaimed.

“That’s a surprise,” Ted said.

“He’s the boy that defeated the Dark Lord, right?” Frank asked.

“Yes, really, Andy.  And indeed, Frank.  Apparently he was raised by muggles,” Narcissa answered, smiling rather enigmatically.

“And Draco?” Dromeda prodded.

“Draco is in Hufflepuff.  Ronald is in —”

Narcissa was cut off by Ted’s cheering.  “YES!  Go Draco!  Puffs for the win!”

Frank snorted and threw a cushion at his older brother, “Hush, let Narcissa finish.”  He turned back to look at the gorgeous divorcee.  “Where is Ronald?  In Gryffindor like you expected?”

She shook her head, “No, he’s actually in Hufflepuff with Draco.  Can you believe it?  I wonder what Molly and Arthur will say?”

Dromeda snickered, “How about I drop by tomorrow and find out?  I’ll let you know.”

“Two knuts says that Arthur will be fine but that Molly will be beside herself,” Ted said, snickering.

“I’ll take that bet!” the Black sisters said together.

Frank raised his eyebrows, “I bet both parents will be fine with it.  And that Molly will be very proud her youngest son stuck by his best mate.”

The three wizarding folks looked at the muggle in their midst in disbelief before all three of them all burst out laughing.  That didn’t bother Frank one bit.  

He knew he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people guessed Hufflepuff for Draco. Kudos to habababa, MaireadTBTS, ElectricClover, Viveen, sofisamu, and calloram on FFN for either guessing or narrowing it down. Now, who was surprised with Ron and Draco going into Hufflepuff while Harry and Hermione are in Slytherin?


	6. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Harry meet some snakes. Draco and Ron discover not every badger is the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to SaintDionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 for beta-reading this. :)

Draco woke with a start.  His hand dug under his pillow for his wand — where it had rested every time he slept since he had visited Ollivanders — pulling it out and clutching it tightly as he tried to remember why he wasn’t in his wide, four-postered bed at Coelum Court.  His eyes moved quickly around the dimly lit room as his brain processed everything.

_ Right.  Hufflepuff House.  Hogwarts. _

Relaxing, he took a good look around the small room that would be his home for the next seven years.  He’d been much too tired the night before to do anything but change and collapse into his bed.  

But now that the had a moment he could tell just how odd this room was.  It was small and rounded without a straight line or a corner in sight.  Even his bed was rounded.  It was shaped like half of a walnut shell and raised high off the ground.  He dimly remembered climbing up a ladder to the bed last night, but the sight of the polished wooden floor so far away was a bit disconcerting.  The ladder itself was interesting.  It looked to be made up of vines twisted together.  Complete with soft little green leaves at irregular intervals.  There wasn’t a window in the small room, but the ceiling was enchanted, quite like the Great Hall’s had been. 

The sun was just creeping over the horizon, painting the ceiling with a myriad display of colors.  He didn’t think he’d ever sleep past sunrise with a ceiling like this.

A quiet grumble pierced the quiet room and he looked away from the ceiling to see Ron’s bright red hair disappear under his blankets.  Draco smiled in fondness — Ron was not what one would call a morning person.

Looking under Ron’s bed he could see a small desk tucked up under the head of the bed.  At the foot of the bed was Ron’s battered old trunk.

Slipping out of bed quietly Draco climbed down the vine ladder and looked under his own bed.  It perfectly mirrored Ron’s side, though he could see now that above the desk was a series of inset shelves.  

Smiling happily he opened his trunk and began to unpack his things.  All of his school books, as well as the books Uncle Frank had given him on meditation and psychology slipped neatly onto the shelves with plenty of room.  He hung his schoolbag on a sturdy hook set into the paneled wall before turning to his robes.

At the foot of his walnut bed — but not under it — was a tall wardrobe.  With several built in drawers for and a polished wooden rod for hanging clothes on.  By the time he had put all of his clothes away the sun was fully above the horizon.  Not even Ron could sleep through that as he was now sitting up in his own bed — looking like he wished he was still asleep.

Draco pulled out robes for the day and began dressing as Ron opened his trunk and began digging around in it.  He was making a complete mess, dumping things on the floor, but Draco knew better than to say anything.  Ron would deal with it all eventually.

“Almost ready?”

Ron merely grunted in response, pulling on his robes.  Draco smiled and packed up his schoolbag.  He didn’t know what classes he had on Monday so he put every book inside — just in case.  When Ron had done the same they slipped out of their little room and headed to breakfast.  

oXoXoXo

Hermione woke up to whispers.

“Is she really a mudblood?”

“How did this happen?”

“Don’t you mean  _ muggle-born _ ?”

“Hush, Tracey, who cares what we call her?”

This last voice was rather nasty.  High-pitched and entirely too smug for Hermione’s liking.

“ _ I care _ , Pansy.  If you call her a mudblood, then you’re calling my father one,” Tracey said frankly.

“No one gives a rat’s arse about your mudblood father.” Pansy practically spat the last two words.

“ _ Oh, really? _  But surely you care about my mother?  _  Lady Selwyn?” _ Tracey said sweetly.

The whispers grew quiet and Hermione could only wonder what she’d fallen into.  What they were saying, it sounded a lot like the things she heard about the nobility.  Add to that the fact that Tracey’s mother was apparently a lady. Hermione had a lot of research to do. 

Deciding to use the silence she sat up and pulled back her bed curtains and climbed out of bed.  The dormitory room was rather ingenous, in Hermione’s opinion.  The room was long, but twisted like a snake so that each bed was set into a bend.  Each student then had total visual privacy around their bed, but they had no auditory privacy.  She didn’t know where the other girls were, but they obviously didn’t realize just how well sound carried in here.  The acoustics had to be deliberate.  Perhaps it was even a spell.  That way no one could sneak up on you and keeping secrets was much more difficult.

She opened up her wardrobe firmly and pulled out her robes.  Getting ready for the day she couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the whispering had not resumed, though she did hear the door to the dormitory open and close while she tied up her shoes.  

The dormitory was empty when she left, though the cushions were slightly askew in the little sitting area that would have been the snake’s head.  That had to have been where the other girls had been sitting.  

She eyed the sitting room for a moment before shifting her bag higher on her shoulder.  She could do this.  She deserved to be here just as much as everyone else.

With that thought firmly in mind she strode out of the dormitory, not sparing any of her fellow Slytherins a second glance.  If they wanted to associate with her, well, then they could just seek her out.

oXoXoXo

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left the twisting dormitory he shared with Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe.  They were scattered around him like crumbs around Dudley as he made his way to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.  

“Who would have thought?”

“Do you see his face?”

“Do you see his scar?”

“Is he another Dark Lord?”

“You should go speak to him.”

“No way!  He’s a Slytherin!”

The Slytherin table grew quiet as he sat down.  Many of his housemates were very pointedly not looking at him.  He knew this because it had always been the same before at school.  Like after he turned his teacher’s hair blue.  

Determined to ignore them all he piled his plate high with food and dug in.

He was almost finished eating when a hush fell over the table.  Looking up he saw a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin stood at the end of the table, a stack of parchment in his hands.

“Good morning, Slytherins.  I have your schedules.  Seventh years first.”  His voice was cold and hard, icier than even Aunt Petunia’s.

“Is that our Head of House?”

Harry looked up at the girl from the train — Hermione Granger — and shrugged.  “I think so.  Not sure though.”

“He is.  That’s Professor Severus Snape.  He also teaches us Potions.  Don’t cross him.  He favors his Slytherins, but he’s extremely strict.”  It was an older boy who said this.  He looked to be a few years older than Harry; he had close-cropped black hair and a crooked nose.  

“Oh, thank you,” Harry said honestly.  Mentally he made a note to tread carefully around Professor Snape.  

“Thank you for the advice, Mr…” Hermione said, looking at the older boy questioningly.

“Pucey.  Adrian Pucey.  It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Granger.”

“Sixth years!”  Professor Snape called sharply.

Harry started to wonder how Pucey knew who Hermione was, but then remember that all of their names had been called out for everyone to hear the night before.  It only made sense for the older Slytherin students to know the name of a muggle-born sorted into their midst.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Pucey.” Hermione said with a smile, holding out her hand to shake Pucey’s.  But, to Harry’s surprise the older boy did not shake Hermione’s hand.  Instead he turned it and bowed over it.  A rather spectacular move while they were all still sitting on the crowded benches.

“Sixth years!”  Professor Snape called sharply.

“You’re such a showoff, Adrian.”

“Fifth years!”  Snape said.

Pucey glared at the small blonde girl seated to Harry’s left.  “Hush, Tracey.  Like you’re one to talk.”

Tracey’s eyes grew wide and her mouth tilted down just a little bit.  “Me?  A—a showoff?  Why — why would you  _ say _ that?”  Her voice trembled just a bit and her eyes glistened. 

Pucey blanched, “I’m sorry, Tracy!  Don’t—”

Tracey burst into laughter, her face flipping from sadness to humor in a single blink and stopping Pucey’s apology in its tracks.  “You’re still so gullible, Adrian.”

Pucey grimaced, “And this little blonde menace is my cousin, Tracey Davis.  Her mother and mine are sisters.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Davis,” Harry said, turning to the blonde girl.  Normally he wouldn’t call anyone his age miss, but it seemed like a safe thing to do.  He didn’t know the rules yet and he really wanted no one to hate him because of his ignorance.  He didn’t want to spend the next seven years like he had spent the last five.

“Fourth years!”

Tracey smiled and held her hand out, “It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Potter.  But we’re classmates, so please call me Tracey.”

Harry awkwardly bowed over her hand, feeling his elbow grow wet as he accidently stuck it in the sausage grease on his plate.  “Then call me, Harry.”

“And I’m Hermione Granger.  Feel free to call me Hermione,” Hermione said, standing up and extending her hand over the table.  Harry saw quite a few people stare at her doing this, as if she had committed a great taboo.  

He wondered if it was rude to reach across a table during meal times.  It might be a good idea for him to go find Draco and Ron later and ask them about manners in the wizarding world.  It wasn’t like he’d learned many manners at the Dursleys.

Tracey stood up as well and held out her hand, shaking Hermione’s.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hermione.  Please, call me Tracey.  I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself last night.  It was a long, tiring day.”

“Third years!” Snape said to the now mostly empty table.

“Well, that’s my cue.  See you little firsties later.  Be good, Tracey.”  Pucey stood as he spoke.  Grabbing his bag and going to join his yearmates around Professor Snape.

Harry ignored the two girls for a moment to twist his arm and look at his syrup covered elbow.  He grimaced and dipped a napkin in a glass of water to try and wash it off.

“Oh, here, let me do that,” Hermione said as she pulled out her wand.  She pointed her wand at his sleeve and very carefully spoke.  “ _ Tergeo _ .”

“Second years!”

As he watched the grease was sucked off the sleeve until his arm felt clean and dry once more.  He looked up at her in amazement.  “That was bloody brilliant!”

She smiled shyly, “Really?  I was so afraid I’d be behind.”

“It was truly amazing.  I’ve seen my mother use that spell many times, but never thought of attempting it myself.   How in the world did you learn to do magic already?”  Tracey asked, admiration in her voice.  “Aren’t you a muggle-born?”

Hermione flushed and stuck her wand back in her pocket. She really didn’t want to confirm anyone’s gossip, but she’d heard Tracey defend her earlier.  If her father really was a muggle-born than she wasn’t likely to judge Hermione. “Yes, I’m a muggle-born.  I just read the books that’s all.  Anyone could have done it.”

The blonde girl shook her head.  “No they couldn’t have.  My parents wouldn’t let me keep my wand until I boarded the train yesterday.  I mean, I learned a few spells, but I’ve never  _ cast _ them before.  And casting takes lots of practice.”  She frowned, “Or so Adrian says.  But perhaps he’s trying to trick me?  Hmm… That’s entirely possible.  He thinks it’s funny wh—”

“First years!” Professor Snape snapped, cutting Tracey off mid-word.

Harry clambered off the bench and joined his other first years.  He was stuck standing behind Crabbe and Goyle so couldn’t see the schedules being passed out until the two larger boys received their own and wandered off.

Professor Snape turned to Harry after handing Hermione her schedule and abruptly froze when his sharp black eyes met Harry’s own.

For a half-second those eyes softened, filling with an emotion that Harry couldn’t name.  Then they snapped back, even colder and sharper than before.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, “Harry Potter.  Our new —  _ celebrity _ .”  He fairly hissed the last word and Harry felt very uncomfortable.  “Be sure not to trample on the name of Slytherin.”

Harry practically snatched the piece of parchment out of Snape’s hand and turned to hurry away.  He was almost out of the Great Hall before he realized that he wasn’t alone.

For some reason Tracey and Hermione had taken up positions on either side of him and neither seemed like they planned on going anywhere.

oXoXoXo

Ron stuck to Draco like a Keeper to his goalposts as the week moved on.  They were treated well by their fellow Hufflepuffs, but he didn’t trust any of the other students.  It didn’t take a genius to see the disbelieving stares that followed Draco everywhere he went.  No one said anything directly mean, but the stares certainly made his friend uncomfortable.  

Luckily as first years they only shared Herbology and Potions with the other Houses, so they only encountered the other houses a few times a week.  In Double Potions on Wednesday the Ravenclaws seemed happy to ignore Draco and hang off of every single world that Professor Snape said.  Professor Snape did linger for a moment over Draco’s name, but after that treated him the same as every other student.  

This was not true in Herbology, which they shared with the Gryffindors three times a week.  Two of the Gryffindor boys didn’t seem to see anything odd with Draco, but the girls and one boy —  Seamus Finnegan — kept eyeing him with suspicion.

In their second herbology class one of the girls — Lavender Brown — came in late and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw her friends had saved her seat.  This was after she shot Draco and Ron’s half empty table a nervous glance.

Ron was just waiting for something to happen.  He just didn’t expect it to happen in his own Common Room.

He and Draco were sitting at a table in the common room, working through a potions essay when one of the boys in their year — Ernie Macmillan — came up to their table, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at them before pointedly clearing his throat.

Draco looked up from his essay, blinking in confusion, “Yes?” 

“Why are you here?  Everyone knows Malfoys have never done a day of hard work in their lives.”

Macmillan’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact.  Looking around, Ron could see a number of other Hufflepuffs looking over curiously.  A few seemed affronted by the rudeness in Macmillan’s question, but all of them appeared to be curious.

“What?” Draco squeaked.

“You heard me,” the sandy-blond said.  “Why are you in Hufflepuff?  Your father certainly wasn’t loyal or hard-working.  None of the Death Eaters were.”

Draco grew tense, and his breathing speed increased.  Ron didn’t think, he leapt to his feet, hands balling into fists.  “Lay off, Macmillan.”

Macmillan turned his attention to Ron and sneered.  “Don’t you talk, _ Weasel.  _  You’re just as wrong for Hufflepuff as Malfoy here.”

Ron reached out and grabbed the front of Macmillan’s robes, “Take it back!”

Scoffing, Macmillan said, “See?  Only a Gryffindor reacts this way.  You’re no Hufflepuff.  And neither is your little Death Eater friend.”

“Who’re you to say who should or shouldn’t be here?”  Hannah Abbot, a girl in their year, asked.  “We were all sorted the same.  Malfoy and Weasley are as deserving as we are.”

“Oh, shut your gob, Hannah.  We all know some of us deserve to be here more than others,” Zacharias Smith stated as he walked over.  “I mean, I am a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff.  I deserve to be here more than anyone else in this room.”

Abbot’s eyes narrowed even as she smiled sweetly.  In direct contrast, the words that came out of her mouth were far from sweet.  “How could I forget you’re a descendant?  Oh!  I know how!  Because every single pureblood is related somehow, and most of the half-bloods as well.  Malfoy and you share just as many common ancestors as Weasley and Malfoy!  Weasley and Malfoy are third cousins once removed through the Blacks.  Through your mother, Rosalyn Prewett, you’re Malfoy’s fourth cousin and Weasley’s third cousin once removed.  And as for you,” she turned her attention to Macmillian, “well, let’s just say that while the Macmillan's have always been in Hufflepuff, they’ve quite regularly married non-Hufflepuffs.  You’ve got Potters, Flints, Prewetts, Bulstrodes, and yes, even Malfoys in your family tree.  Also, your great-aunt is Zach’s great-grandmother.”

Ron, along with the other boys, could only gape at her.

“That was brilliant!  My mother can do that!  Of course it’s with non-magical nobility.  Is that what all of you are?  Nobility?”  Justin Finch-Fletchley, the only muggle-born boy in their year, said in amazement from his seat nearby, breaking the silence and making them all aware that everyone’s eyes were on them.

Abbot flushed, “Um, yes, there are books on wizarding genealogy.”

Macmillan yanked his robes out of Ron’s grasp, “And only  _ some _ of us are nobility.”

“Nobility is what rests inside of your soul, not your blood.”  An older boy said as he walked up.  It was the same boy that had cheered when Draco was sorted.  Ron thought he had known Tonks.  Though he supposed everyone in Hufflepuff  — minus their fellow first years  — had known Tonks.  She wasn’t exactly forgettable.  

Abbot beamed, “Well said, Diggory.”  

Diggory flushed, “Thank you.  Now, what’s the problem here?  The prefects are all off on their rounds and you’re disturbing everyone that’s trying to get some work done.”

Ron, along with everyone else, turned to stare at Ernie Macmillan.  Macmillan flushed and began to straighten his robes as he muttered, “I just wanted to know what a Malfoy was doing here.”

A look of surprise settled over Diggory’s handsome features, “Wondering what Malfoy’s doing here?  Why would you ask that?  You saw him sorted here.  Not that it’s even surprising.  Tonks always said she was close with her cousin.  Only makes sense that he would follow in her footsteps and be a Hufflepuff.”

“Tonks?” Macmillan asked.

“You don’t know who Tonks is?  Well, I shall have to rectify that!  Every Hufflepuff has to know about Tonks!”  With those words Diggory slung a friendly arm around Macmillan’s shoulders and steered him away from the other first years.

“Who is that?” Finch-Fletchley asked in amazement.

“Cedric Diggory,” Draco said quietly, looking more relaxed than he had before.  “He’s a third-year.  Dora — sorry, I mean Tonks — says he shows real promise.  She thinks he’s the epitome of what a Hufflepuff should be.”

“He is the perfect Hufflepuff,” Abbott said, watching the older boy walk away with stars in her eyes.  

“You know, his grandmother is a Smith, so it only makes sense that—” Smith’s words were cut off by Abbott giving him a friendly shove.  

“Hush, Zach.  I know for a fact that all of us have a Smith somewhere in our family tree.”  

Finch-Fletchley chuckled, “Even I have a Smith amongst my ancestors.  Do you know how common that name is in the non-magical world?”

“Well, the Smiths do have even more children than the Weasleys…” Draco said teasingly, casting Ron a nervous glance that belied the humor in his tone.  Draco was obviously trying to overcome his discomfort and participate.

Ron resumed his seat, chuckling.  “That is rather true.  How many siblings do you have, Smith?  Twelve?”

Smith sniffed, “I only have two siblings, not  _ twelve _ .”

“Just call him Zach.  Too many Smiths to call him by his last name.  And I’m Hannah,” she said, grabbing her books and setting them down on the same table as Draco and Ron.

Zach sputtered, making Finch-Fletchley laugh as he grabbed his own things before sitting down next to Hannah.  “I’m Justin.  And do just call him Zach, not Zacharias.  You should see our room.  I swear I couldn’t have found a snobbier roommate even if I had gone to Eton.  He needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

Ron, Draco and Hannah chuckled at that, making Zach mutter under his breath before sighing in defeat and joining them at their table.  “Fine, call me Zach.  And if Justin’s going to tell stories about me then I have to let you know that he has a—”

Immediately Justin’s hand clamped down over Zach’s mouth, cutting off his words.  

“Uh, just ignore him.  Too much family history has gotten to him.  All that inbreeding, you know.”

The table erupted into laughter as Zach struggled, trying to free himself from his roommate’s grasp.  Ron shot a look at Draco and was very pleased to see that his best friend looked as relaxed as he ever had in a gathering of more than two people.  Ron could only hope that everyone else would be as understanding of Draco as he was.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My betas tell me I may have just poked the rare pair dragon. Especially as I haven't shared what pairings are in DD, except for the dramione. And I suppose some of my pairings in BB were rare pair (Neville and Pansy?). Oh, and don't worry, more of the Slytherins will be showing themselves soon.


	7. Family Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Ron miss dinner. Harry has a question for Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Saintdionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 for beta reading this chapter.

Draco leaned back on the soft grass and closed his eyes, letting the early autumn afternoon sun warm him.  With his eyes shut, he could pretend he was once more back in his own garden at home.  The wind was just strong enough to rustle the trees of the forest and drown out the sounds of other students chattering around the lake.

He must have dozed for a bit because one moment the day was bright and full of warmth, and in another, a chill had seeped into the air.

Yawning, he opened his eyes and sat up.  From what he could tell the sun had just dipped below the mountains and the area around the lake was almost completely deserted now.  A little snort came from beside him, and he looked over to see Ron sound asleep, curled up around his school bag like a kid around his stuffed toy.

He reached out and shook Ron’s shoulder.  “Ron, wake up.  The sun is setting.  I think we missed dinner.”

“Mmph.”

He shook harder, “Ron!”

Ron sat up with a jerk and looked around blearily.  “Huh?”

“We fell asleep.  I think we missed dinner.”

His friend groaned but pulled himself to his feet.  Draco followed along, checking to make sure his wand was still at his hip.

“Stupid dormitory.  Waking up with the sun is inhuman.  Look what it did to us?”  Ron grumbled as he grabbed his bag.

“We’ll get the hang of it,” Draco said, trying to be placating.  “Mum warned me the first few weeks are the hardest.”

“Weeks?”  Ron groaned as he headed for the castle, Draco on his heels.  “Don’t expect me to _ever_ get used to rising so early.”

Draco had nothing to say to that.  Their ceiling wasn’t giving him many issues, but then, he’d always been an early riser.  He’d loved watching the sunrise from his bedroom window at home.  How it always felt like he was the only person awake in the entire world.  It had been very comforting.

True to Draco’s suspicions, the Great Hall was deserted when they entered the castle.  The clock over the hourglasses told them they only had about thirty minutes until curfew.  

Both boys’ stomachs grumbled as they turned towards the stairs leading down to the cellar.  It looked like they’d be getting no food until breakfast.  At least they wouldn’t have to do any homework on an empty stomach as tomorrow was Saturday.

They were just passing a picture of a bowl of fruit when said picture swung outwards, nearly whacking Ron in the head.

“Ahh!” Ron shrieked as he stumbled backward.  Draco stepped backward himself even as his hand went down to hold his wand.

Upon seeing the two figures that emerged from behind the painting, Draco relaxed.  Fred and George may be very annoying at times, but he knew they would never hurt him.

“Hey!  Look at this Fred!”

“Why, if it isn’t our little Hufflepuff brother!”

“And his ferocious dragon companion!”

Ron turned beet red, and Draco rolled his eyes.  “Why are you two down here?  And what’s behind the picture?”  

“Oh, nothing at all little dragon,” Fred said even as George tried to close the picture, but he didn’t count on Ron.  Quick as a snake the youngest redhead reached out and gripped the edge of the frame, stopping it from swinging closed.  Draco then darted between the twins and looked through the hole.

“What is it?” Ron asked Draco.

Draco grinned and looked back at his best friend, “The kitchens.”

Ron’s stomach growled at this knowledge, and he looked at the twins.  “Does mum know you two go down to the kitchens and sneak food?”  He eyed the bulging knapsacks on the twins.  Draco would bet his entire inheritance that there was more food than books in those bags.

“Is our little Hufflepuff brother—”

“—trying to blackmail us?”

“Nope.  Just tell us how to open the portrait and we’ll forget this entire encounter ever happened,” Ron said simply.

The twins shared a look and then shrugged.  

“You tickle the pear,” George said in a tone that mirrored Ron’s.

“Alright.  How about I go into the kitchen and Ron makes sure that it works?” Draco said as he clambered into the kitchen.  He didn’t think the twins would lie about this, but he knew better than to trust them explicitly.  

Fred and George put on exaggerated hurt expressions before proving to Ron that it worked.  During that time Draco turned his attention to the inside of the kitchen.

He had never seen so many house elves at once.  One of them came up to him.  “I be Mibsy.  How can Mibsy be helping you, young sir?”

Draco’s stomach growled.

“Hello, Mibsy.  My friend and I missed dinner.  Can we please get some food?”

Mibsy bobbed a little curtsey and then rushed off.  By the time the twins had gone, Ron had entered the kitchen there was an entire feast prepared for them.  

The two boys tore through the food and were extremely full by the time they snuck out of the kitchen.  Luckily it was only a couple of turns, and they were back in their common room.  As Ron knocked on the barrel to gain entry Draco decided it hadn’t been too bad of a first week.  

oXoXoXo

At breakfast the next morning Draco was quite happily eating his eggs when the entire Hufflepuff table grew quiet.  Then a throat cleared nervously behind him, and he stopped, fork halfway to his mouth as he turned around.  His entire body tensed as soon as he saw the green and silver ties on the three students behind him.  His throat began to close up before he forced his eyes up to the faces.

“Mornin’, Harry,” Ron said cheerfully from beside Draco.  

Only as Draco relaxed, did he see Harry do the same.  Though the two girls on either side of him — Granger and someone he didn’t recognize — eyed the entire Hufflepuff table rather suspiciously.  

“Uh, good morning, Draco, Ron.  I was, um, wondering if we could do something today?  Since we don’t have any classes together,” Harry said in a rush of words.

Draco wanted to spend more time with Harry.  He liked his new Hufflepuff housemates, but he’d met Harry on the train.  Dora had met Charlie on the train.  And Harry seemed to want friends just as badly as Draco did.  But the two girls made him nervous.  He knew Granger wasn’t as scary as she had first seemed, but the other girl was an unknown entity.  But maybe if Ron was around it would be alright?

He shrugged, “Alright.  What do you want to do?”

“Uh…” Harry looked first at Granger and then at the other girl.  

“We can always do homework,” Granger supplied.

The other girl rolled her eyes, “Hermione, you did homework last night.  How about we take a walk around the grounds?  Since we spent all afternoon with Hagrid yesterday, we didn’t get to see anything.”

Ron snickered at the pinched look of annoyance on Hermione’s face.  Earning him a death glare in response.  

Draco simply nodded, “A walk sounds lovely.”  He stuck the last bit of eggs in his mouth and then stood up.  

“Oi, Draco, Ron, will we see you at lunch?” Zach asked.  “We want to teach Justin exploding snap.  Hannah’s got a deck.”

Ron grabbed another piece of toast as he stood up, “Yeah, you’ll see us at lunch.  Later.”

The two Hufflepuffs followed the three Slytherins out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds.  They wandered in silence for a few minutes and then Draco found himself walking beside Harry, while Ron was now between the two girls.

“So, uh, who’s Hagrid?” Draco asked, trying to fight the nervousness threatening to overwhelm him.

“Hagrid’s the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.  He’s the one that took me shopping for Hogwarts.  Invited us to tea yesterday.  You met him on the boat ride.”

“Ah.”

Draco was at a loss.  He’d never had to talk to Ron.  His red-haired friend had done enough talking for both of them.  Same with Dora.  He felt miserable.  Just what was he supposed to say?

“Draco, can I ask a favor?”

His stomach lurched, “Sure, uh, what is it?”

“You said your mum was in Slytherin?

Draco nodded.

“Can you ask if she knows why Professor Snape hates me so much?  Tracey and Hermione don’t see it, and Hagrid says he hates all students.  But he’s always nice to his Slytherins.  But during Potions yesterday he asked a lot of questions.  Gave easy ones to my housemates and rewarded them with points.  Then gave hard ones to the Gryffindors and deducted points when they didn’t know them.”

That made Draco frown.  Professor Snape had only asked hard questions in the class he’d had with the Ravenclaws on Tuesday.  “If he asked you easy—”

Harry shook his head, “No, you see.  That’s the point.  He asked _every Slytherin_ an easy question and then gave points.  But with me, he asked a hard question and then did _nothing_ when I could tell him what happened when I added some root to some infusion.  Isn’t that odd?”

“Yes, and I’ll write my mum and ask.  I think she’s older than Professor Snape, but she might know why.  Or Aunt Andromeda might.”

Harry smiled, his green eyes sparkled, and Draco felt the nervousness he’d just forgotten about come back tenfold.

“Thanks, Draco!  You’re the best.”

Draco could only nod mutely, caught in Harry’s eyes.

“Oh!  Like you’re one to talk!” Ron’s sharp, angry voice sliced through the air, making Harry turn away from Draco and look over at Ron and the two girls..  As soon as he was free of those green eyes, Draco drew a shaky breath.

“What do you mean _I’m_ one to talk!  My family takes pride in our heritage!  A change of last name does NOT mean a change in ethics!  We don’t hide under a rock!”  The other girl’s piercing voice pierced Draco’s ears, making him wince as he looked at his best friend going toe-to-toe with the petite blonde girl.

“Pride?!?  Pride?!?  You think we Weasleys have no _pride_?”

“Tracey—” Granger started but was cut off by the blonde girl.

“Of _course_ you have no pride!” Tracey screeched.  “Living in a place no better than it’s namesake!  A half dozen children and not two knuts to rub together?  What about your family’s lordship?  The Weasley seat on the Wizengamot has been empty for a generation my mother says!  Why doesn’t your father do his duty?  Hmm?”

Ron’s eyes narrowed, and Draco took a step forward, unsure of how to break up this conflict.  There was no love here, like in the conflicts between the Weasley siblings.  No old jokes to bring up or safe routes to follow.  Draco thought the only thing Ron and this Tracey person had in common was a towering temper.

“WHAT?!?  You think my father is Lord Weasley?!?  Are you a few ingredients shy of a potion?!?  My grandfather was _Septimus_ Weasley!  Septimus!  Do you know what that means?!?  He was the _seventh_ son!   _Seventh_!  His father may have been Lord Weasley, but he never was!  The current Lord Weasley is off in Peru doing research!  He doesn’t care about politics!  Besides, family is family, doesn’t matter who’s got the title.  And don’t you _dare_ try to imply my friendship with Draco is ruining my family again!  Got it?!?”  He spat the last words in Tracey’s face and then spun around and stormed to the castle.  As he passed Draco and Harry, he growled, “Potter, you might want to clear some things up with your new _friend_.  Draco, let’s go back to our Common Room.  At least there we have friends that won’t judge us on the sins of our fathers.”

Draco shot one last glance at the two girls.  Granger was speechless and a little confused looking.  Tracey, on the other hand, looked as if she had just been slapped, though Draco knew Ron hadn’t laid a finger on her.  

He shot Harry a half-smile and then ran to catch up with Ron.

“What did she say?”

“She asked if my family knew just who I was associating with here at Hogwarts.  And _then_ she said something about how far families can fall.”

“Oh.”

Ron drew up short as they entered the castle.  “Draco, you know I don’t regret being your friend?  Neither do my siblings?”

Draco smiled at the earnestness in his friend’s expression.  “I know.  Thanks for being a good friend, Ron.  Let’s go find Zach, Hannah, and Justin?  We can grab food from the kitchen for lunch and just stay in the common room all day.”

Ron relaxed a bit, smiling back at him.  “That sounds great.  Let’s go.”

oXoXoXo

Narcissa reread the letter from Draco and frowned.  She was glad she and her son had such an open relationship.  For him to be able to tell her about the negative moments over the first week as well as the positive ones.  

To think, a Hufflepuff had tried to bully her son because he wasn’t a ‘real’ Hufflepuff.  She would never have thought such a thing possible.  Though, it would be interesting to ask Ted and Nymphadora about it.

As for that Tracey girl….

She would have to do some research as she didn’t know the names of all the children born during the war.  But from what Draco had said the girl had to be from a family that still held a lordship even if their name no longer matched the title.  That tended only to happen when the family was left with no male heirs.  When Sirius finally died in Azkaban, his title would pass to Andromeda.  Meaning, Lady Black would have the surname, Tonks.  Until at least Nymphadora married, and then the name would change again.  Unless Andy and Ted had a son.  

She knew that Frank found it very amusing that his brother, the son of a nurse and a carpenter, will one day be married to a peer of the magical realm.

Yes, she’d have to research on that bit.  But at least Draco’s question about Harry Potter and Severus Snape would be easy to answer.  She may have been older than them by a good six years, but even she knew of the immense rivalry between Severus Snape and James Potter.

It was likely that Snape couldn’t help but see the father in the son, which was too bad.  Having Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, in Slytherin House would only help clean up its currently disgraced image.

As Narcissa put quill to parchment and sent a letter back to Draco, she also began to word one to Harry Potter.  She didn’t know much about the young vanquisher of the Dark Lord, but if he was in Slytherin, she could make a few guesses.  If she wrote directly to him, then he could choose who to share the information with.  

He’d also be able to ask her any more questions he might have.  And it certainly wouldn’t hurt Draco’s future if his mother was a regular penpal with Harry Potter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless it’s stated in the story everything is the same as canon. That goes for common fanon things as well. Such as anything about Lucius and Narcissa’s marriage, Snape being Draco’s godfather, no muggleborn has ever been in Slytherin before (they’re just rare), Dumbledore blocking Harry’s mail, the Weasleys being in Dumbledore’s pocket, etc. I use Harry Potter wiki and the e-books (all 7 in Kindle Cloud Reader on my second monitor) to fact check. Not that this makes me perfect, but I do try to stick close to canon.


	8. New Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracey explains herself. Harry receives a letter. Hermione learns to ride a broom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Julist and Ladybear92 for betaing this. To SaintDionysus and everyone else in Irma's path - Stay safe. My thoughts are with you.

Hermione was sure she looked as confused as she felt. One minute she had been asking what it was like to grow up in a magical family and then in the next Tracey and Ron had been shouting at each other. Mentally she reviewed every word that had just been spoken until she hit on the pivotal moment.

_ “Do your parents know about Malfoy? About who you’re associating with?” Tracey asked. _

_ Ron frowned, “Of course they know. Why wouldn’t they?” _

_ “Oh, I just never imagined they’d be alright with...” Tracey trailed off and made a gesture with her hand. _

_ Ron’s face grew red, “What?” _

_ Tracey shrugged and Hermione began to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, though she couldn’t say why. “You know, what with his family history and your family history...not really compatible, is it? I mean, families fall from position all the time, but to go that far _ — _ ” _

_ Ron’s face had been rapidly growing redder and at these words he exploded like a popped balloon. “Oh! Like you’re one to talk!” _

“Tracey…” Hermione started before growing silent, unsure of what to exactly to say. She didn’t really understand what had set Ron off. Had her new friend said something terrible? Or was Ron just easily hurt? Sadly, Hermione didn’t know either of them well enough to figure it out. So, instead, she cast Harry a pleading look, hoping he could help her figure this out. Unfortunately, he only looked as confused as she did.

“I never meant…” Tracey said softly, her eyes following the two Hufflepuff boys as they headed towards the castle.

“You never meant what?” Harry asked.

Tracey shook her head and stood up straight, “It doesn’t matter. Ron can think what he wants.  _ I _ know what I meant. And I didn’t mean what he apparently thought he meant. I didn’t mean anything bad. I was just asking questions.” 

“Shouldn’t you apologize?” Hermione asked. “I mean, if you really didn’t mean to imply Malfoy was bad for the Weasleys? Just explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“No. It doesn’t really matter. It’s not like we have to share a class with them. Harry can be friends with Malfoy and I’ll just avoid Weasley when possible.  I’m not going to explain myself. A Selwyn never does.”

Personally Hermione was sure that wasn”t the best idea. It would be better to apologize and get it all over with. Explanations always solved problems. She opened her mouth to say as much, but Harry spoke before she could.

“A Selwyn? I thought you were a Davis?”

Tracey grimaced, “Legally my name is Tracey Marie Selwyn-Davis. My mother is Lady Selwyn and I’m the Heiress of Selwyn.”

That piqued Hermione’s curiosity enough to temporarily set aside the storming off of the two Hufflepuff boys. “You’re the heiress? Do you have no brothers? Is magical inheritance for nobility agnatic-cognatic or absolute cognatic? I assume it’s primogeniture?”

“Ag-what?” Harry asked, looking completely out of his depth.

“Agnatic-Cognatic Primogeniture means girls inherit only if they have no brothers. The royal family is like that. Though there has been talk of changing it to Absolute-Cognatic Primogeniture, which means that the oldest child, no matter their gender, inherits. Some countries are Agnatic Primogeniture, so only boys can inherit. Like the Imperial Family of Japan,” Hermione explained, quite proud of that book she’d read last summer on noble and royal inheritance around the world.

Tracey made a face, “Technically the magical world is Agnatic-Cognatic, but the Selwyn family has always been Absolute-Cognatic. Before my mother the husbands changed their name if they married the Selwyn Heir.”

“Why didn’t your father?”

“Because, my father is the son of Sir James Davis, the third Baronet of Sharrington Hall. Dad is only a second son, but he’s third in line to inherit. Because the land is is entailed they decided to give my younger brother and I both names. Neither of my grandfather’s liked it, but did agree it was the best option.”

“Then why do you just go by Davis? Not Selwyn-Davis?” Harry asked.

Tracey grimaced, “Do you know what it’s like to have a hyphenated last name? It’s a pain. My mother wrote Professor Dumbledore during the summer and asked if I could be referred to by only Davis. He agreed.”

“Alright…” Hermione said slowly, “but why did you get in an argument with Ron? Did you really imply that Malfoy is ruining the Weasleys?”

Tracey hurriedly shook her head, “No. Or, well, I didn’t mean to. It’s just, my father and Malfoy’s were in the same year in Slytherin. I’ve heard terrible things about Mr. Malfoy over the years. And I want to know if Malfoy is a threat to Harry. Or to you.”

That idea made Hermione think. Malfoy a threat to Harry? To her? Could he be? He was a Hufflepuff and even after only a week she knew Hufflepuffs had only been good people in the past. Quickly she catalogued all of her interactions with Malfoy. From when she’d first seen him on the train to just a few minutes ago. 

No, Malfoy couldn’t be a threat to Harry.

True, he was a bit odd, but weren’t most of the wizards and witches she met? Including Tracey?

“No, Tracey, I don’t think Malfoy’s a threat. I mean, I’m not great at reading people, but from what I’ve seen he’s a true Hufflepuff, with maybe a bit of Ravenclaw. Helped me see that Slytherin was the House for me.”

“How so?” Harry asked curiously.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up, “He saw Hogwarts made me...well...hungry.”

“Hungry?” Harry and Tracey asked together.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, hungry. For what it had to offer. I thought I wanted to be a Gryffindor because I didn’t want to be a Ravenclaw. I like learning but...well, learning needs a purpose. Ravenclaws learn to know. I want to make a difference. I want to make the world a better place.”

“Ooo, ambition. I like it,” Tracey said with a grin. “Why don’t we go find somewhere to sit and I’ll answer some questions on the wizarding world?”

Harry and Hermione quickly agreed with that and the three wandered off, the argument between Ron and Tracey quite forgotten for the moment.

oXoXoXo

Harry looked up in surprise on Sunday morning when a fierce looking eagle owl landed on the Slytherin table and thrust its leg out imperiously. Hermione and Tracey had already finished eating and headed to library so there was no one to read over his shoulder when he opened the letter.

“You may want to feed that bird.”

“I heartily agree. It looks like it might try to take a bite out of one of us if you don’t.”

Harry looked up from the letter at Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. They were his roommates, but neither of them had said a single word to him all week.

“What? Oh,” Harry looked at the owl, seeing how it’s eyes followed his fingers rather hungrily. “Right. Here you go.” He grabbed a rather large piece of bacon and held it up. The bird snatched the piece and then threw itself into the air. He watched as it settled on the sill of a high window and devoured the bacon before looking back at Nott and Zabini. “Thank you. I’ve only really met my own owl, and she’s very polite and patient.”

“No problem,” Nott said. He stood up and laid a hand on Zabini’s shoulder. “You finished? Or should I meet you in the library? I want to get this essay for McGonagall finished.”

“I’m done,” Zabini said, taking a last sip of his pumpkin juice and standing up. “Later, Potter.”

“Later,” Harry said, watching the two boys walk away. A quick glance around the table showed that the only two Slytherins he knew there were Crabbe and Goyle. Both of them looked much to interested in their food to say anything to him, which was perfectly fine with him.

Unfolding the letter he checked the bottom to see who it was from. The name brought a smile to his face. He was glad Ron and Tracey’s argument hadn’t stopped Draco from speaking to his mother. Looking back at the top of the parchment he began to read.

_ Dear Mr. Potter, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. I am Ms. Black, Draco’s mother. My son tells me that you two are friends and that you have several questions you are hoping I can answer. I shall endeavor to answer the question you presented Draco with, as well as any others. I am sure that you have some questions about the wizarding world as you were raised by muggles.  _

_ First, though, I shall answer the question you presented Draco with. Why does Severus Snape hate you? That is a bit of a tale, but the simple answer is that he hated your father and his friends. I don’t know many details as I was several years ahead of them in Hogwarts, but my cousin was one of your father’s best friends, so I do know some details. I shall tell them to you now. _

_ Severus was good friends with a muggle-born girl when he entered Hogwarts. Your mother, to be exact. It is thought by many that they actually met before the train ride, but no one knows for certain. It is known that on the train ride Severus Snape and James Potter became rivals. The reasons for this are unknown, though the rumor mill states that your mother, Lily Evans, was part of the reason. For five years it was Severus and Lily against James and his friends. But then Severus, at the end of fifth year, called Lily a terrible name that I will not commit to parchment. It was quite a public event, which is how I know of it. I am not sure of the rest, but I do know that James and Lily were Head Boy and Girl in their seventh year. Their relationship changed and they married soon after finishing school. The rest, as they say, is history. _

_ I hear from Molly Weasley that you have untidy black hair and glasses. I saw James Potter enough as a child to know that fits his description as well. If you share any more characteristics with your father I can only assume that is not helping your case with Severus. He is likely conflicted between his hatred of you and his desire to see his Slytherins do well. _

_ I hope this helps. Please, send me an owl if you have any more questions. I know being muggle-raised and in Slytherin can be overwhelming at times. I went to school with the last muggle-born student and I know he struggled. _

_ Warm Regards, _

_ Narcissa Black (Previously Narcissa Malfoy  _ _ née  _ _ Black) _

Harry reread the letter before folding it up and sticking it in his pocket. Snape and his mother had once been friends? His parents had disliked each other for years? Snape hated Harry because he looked like his father?

That last thought made Harry shove himself to his feet in anger. How could he be hated just for his looks? That was as bad as people liking him for doing something he didn’t even remember! Well, he’d show Snape. He’d write Ms. Black back and get more information on his parents. Maybe her cousin was still around, he’d likely know even more. 

With that thought in mind Harry headed down to his common room. He’d write a letter to Ms. Black and mail it off before he joined the girls in the library.

oXoXoXo

Hermione felt decidedly queasy when she saw the notice posted pinned in the Slytherin common room on Monday morning.

Flying lessons.

It didn’t matter that Harry and Tracey told her she would be fine — she knew she would be terrible. She hated heights. Had ever since she was six years old and had been trapped in a glass elevator for hours with her grandmother due to a power failure. All those people, so far below…

She felt sick.

It was all she could do on Thursday morning to pull herself out of bed. She could hear Parkinson and Greengrass talking to each other as they got dressed. Both of them excited to see who flew well. To see if there were any future quidditch players in their year. Bulstrode was quiet, but then she always was. Hermione didn’t think she’d heard the large girl say two words since school had started.

As Hermione was grabbing her bag Tracey appeared around the wall dividing her area from Hermione’s. She raised a brow in a silent question and Hermione nodded, telling her stomach to settle down. The two of them had agreed to rarely speak in their dormitory unless they were sure they were alone. 

The acoustics were quickly growing on Hermione’s nerves and she was determined to find a way around them.

The girls met Harry in the common room and headed up to breakfast. Classes proceeded as normally until that afternoon. Well, as normally as it could while Hermione read and reread every word on flying she’d found in the library.

At three-thirty that afternoon, just as Charms ended, Hermione, Harry, Tracey and the other Slytherins hurried outside for the first flying lesson. The sky was clear and a cool breeze rippled the grass under their feet as they hurried to a smooth, flat part of the lawn. Eighteen broomsticks were lying on the grass and they all quickly stood next to the ones that looked the least damaged.

Hermione didn’t have any practical experience with flying brooms, but she did wonder if it was safe to teach students to fly on a broom that had over a dozen twigs bent and broken. 

The Gryffindors arrived soon afterwards and then came their teacher, Madam Hooch.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked at the Gryffindors, who were all milling around, eyeing the seven brooms left for them with obvious distaste. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

The Gryffindors scrambled to find places, each wanting the least damaged broom they could find. Hermione frowned when she saw that Neville was stuck with the worst one. She’d partnered with him on Friday in Potions as he was the only Gryffindor without a partner. Was he being bullied? Or did he just have no close friends?

She blinked in surprise when she realized everyone was holding out their hand over their broom and saying ‘Up!’ Quickly she stuck her own hand out and shouted, “UP!” She was so mortified at not hearing Madam Hooch give out instruction and so she forgot how nervous she was about heights or flying. The broom shot into her hand and she stared at it in shock, barely noticing that Neville’s broom didn’t move at all.

Madam Hooch gave a demonstration on how to mount the broom without sliding off before walking among them and correcting their grip. When that was done she gave instructions and prepared to blow her whistle as she counted down. Hermione locked eyes with Neville and gave him a nervous smile, which he returned. On one they all rose slowly into the air, hovered for a few feet, and landed back down on solid earth.

Hermione’s hand was pounding and her grip was sweaty, but she felt proud at having done the first task. She grinned and looked over at Harry to see him doing the same, a look of wonder in his eyes.

Things went very well after that. That is, until they didn’t.

It was near the end of the lesson and nine of the students were about a hundred feet up while the others waited on the ground. Hermione stood beside Tracey and watched as Harry, Neville, and seven others followed Madam Hooch around like little ducklings. She came to stop and everyone followed suit, though Neville wasn’t quite fast enough. The front of his broom hit the tail of Parkinson’s and he slipped off until he was dangling from the broom. Cries and shouts of alarm erupted and Madam Hooch flew over with her wand raised. As she levitated Neville back onto his broom he let out he screamed, “Noooo! Trevor!”

Something small began plummeting towards the ground and Hermione gasped in dismay when a moment later Harry followed the poor toad.

More screams filled the air and Hermione knew hers was one of them. She saw Madam Hooch shout, but was unable to turn her wand on Harry as it was the only thing keeping Neville from falling to his death.

Inches from the ground Harry shot back upwards, the toad in his outstretched hand and a look of amazed relief on his face. 

When Harry landed on the ground he was immediately accosted by Madam Hooch.

“HARRY POTTER! Of all the —! Come with me! Now! Everyone else, back to your common rooms! Class is dismissed! Leave the brooms here.”

Madam Hooch stormed off and Harry followed after quickly handing Trevor to Neville. Hermione didn’t pay attention to the talk that burst out from her fellow classmates. Instead she shared a worried look with Tracey.

What was going to happen to Harry?

oXoXoXo

Harry had to trot to keep up with Madam Hooch, his whole body beginning to feel numb. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He’d be sent back to the Dursleys and locked away in the cupboard again. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. 

He followed her up the front steps and then down into the dungeon inside. Madam Hooch rapped smartly on a door Harry had never noticed before. When it opened to reveal Professor Snape he knew that he was done for. Snape hated him. He’d love to have a reason to expel the son of James Potter.

“Yes?” Snape asked Madam Hooch after throwing Harry a glance.

“This boy needlessly and recklessly used his broom during the flying lesson. He entered into a dive that many professional Seekers would avoid! All for a pet toad.” Madam Hooch said crisply. “While it was decent flying it was reckless, dangerous, and unacceptable.”

“I see. Yes, I shall ensure he is assigned a detention. Thank you, Rolanda, for bringing this to my attention.”

“Of course, Severus. I assume you have it from here?”

“Indeed.” Snape turned his cold, black eyes on Harry. Then he took a step to the side, “Inside, Mr. Potter.”

He felt dazed as he stepped inside. A detention? Just that? Not expelled? Was he going to be that lucky?

Snape’s office was far from inviting. The stone walls were covered in shelves that held a few books and a lot of terrifying looking glass jars. The solid wood teacher’s desk was in the center of the room with a large leather chair behind it and no chairs in front of it. Harry came to a stop in front of the desk and stood there awkwardly while Snape dismissed Madam Hooch and then took a seat in the one chair.

The two dark-haired wizards, separated by a generation, stared at each other. Snape’s black eyes locked with Harry’s green ones for a heartbeat before Harry looked away.

“So, Potter, you thought like showing off? Did you stop to consider just what would have happened if you hadn’t pulled up from your dive? Or are you that arrogant about your flying skills?”

Harry’s head jerked up, “No! I wasn’t showing off! I didn’t even think about it! I mean, I’ve never been on a broom before today!”

Snape was on the verge of exploding, but fell backwards into his chair, his eyes growing wide at Harry’s last few words. “Today was your first time on a broom?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Surely your guardians let you fly. After all, with a father like yours it would —”

Now it was Harry’s turn to gape. “Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? Let me fly?!? They were angry when I dreamed of a flying motorbike!”

“Petunia Evans raised you?” Snape asked, a chill entering his voice.

Harry remembered what Ms. Black had said in her letter. Had Snape really known Harry’s mother before Hogwarts? Did that mean he knew Aunt Petunia? He nodded, “Yes, sir. She and her husband.”

“I see. And, pray tell, if you were not showing off earlier, why did you risk your neck for a toad? Especially as it was your first day on a broom?”

Harry flushed and looked down, “Well — um — you see, Neville seems nice. And he was so upset about Trevor falling, even as he was in danger.”

Snape groaned, or at least that was the only label Harry could apply to the sound that the Potions Master made.

“Are you sure you’re a Slytherin, Mr. Potter? That was certainly Gryffindor behavior.”

“Yes, sir. The hat said I was difficult. Said I had plenty of courage and talent. But thought my thirst to prove myself made a good Slytherin.”

“Interesting. Well, Mr. Potter, I am assigning you to detention tomorrow night. Report to Mr. Filch directly after dinner. Understand?”

Harry nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good, dismissed.”

Harry turned to leave, feeling terribly relieved that he had escaped with just a detention. Filch would likely have him clean something, but that didn’t bother Harry. He had lots of practice with cleaning things.

“Oh, Mr. Potter?”

Harry stopped in the doorway and turned to look back at his Head of House. “Yes?”

Snape fixed him with a level stare. “You  _ will _ buy a broom this summer and try out for the Slytherin Quidditch Team next year. Do you understand?”

The relieved feeling in his chest grew even lighter and a smile tilted Harry’s lips up. Was Snape seeing him as different from his father? Maybe? He nodded, “Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now go.”

Harry hurried out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The argument won't be forgotten. Tracey just managed to distract them. As for Snape there at the end. Any thoughts on just how much he'll change his thoughts on Harry?


	9. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks fly by. A troll enters the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Huge thanks to my amazing betas! They only got this chapter late Thursday night (Thank you Irma) but Saint Dionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 all managed to beta read it by Friday night. Ya'll are the best!

The rest of September slipped by with a soft sigh, nothing at all like that first week. Life at Hogwarts slipped into a pleasant routine. His weekdays were filled with classes and all the work they brought along; while his weekends were spent with Ron and their fellow Hufflepuffs. Ron flatly refused to spend time with Harry as long as Tracy Davis was around. And as Harry, Davis, and Hermione appeared to be as inseparable as Ron and Draco, that meant never. Draco’s only interaction with the Slytherin was a quick thank you one morning at breakfast. Apparently, his mother had written Harry and explained about Professor Snape.

Draco felt rather sad about this, but couldn’t really fault his red-haired friend.

There was one slight change that occurred during the second week of school, on Friday.

Neville Longbottom came racing into Herbology, red-faced and breathing heavily. His robes were disheveled and even torn in a few places. Professor Sprout stopped mid-sentence and looked up at the chubby Gryffindor in concern, “Are you alright, Mr. Longbottom?”

Neville mutely nodded and glanced around quickly, mild panic in his eyes. Usually, he sat at a table with the other two Gryffindor boys up near the front of the greenhouse. Obviously, he thought this was too far to go as he stumbled over to the closest empty stool. It just so happened that said stool was at Ron and Draco’s table.

The two Hufflepuffs shot the other boy concerned looks, but said nothing while Professor Sprout deducted ten points from Gryffindor for tardiness and then proceeded giving instructions.

Later, as they got to work on repotting dancing daisies, Ron spoke. “What happened, mate? Did your cauldron explode in Potions?”

Neville shook his head, looking miserable. “No, Potions wasn’t so bad. But after I bumped into Crabbe and Goyle. They took offense.”

Draco winced, Crabbe and Goyle may be lacking in brains, but they more than made up for it in brawn. No wonder none of the damage done to Neville looked to be magical.

The three of them slipped in companionable silence and continued their work. Dancing daisies weren’t dangerous, but repotting them was difficult as their roots never stopped moving. Later, after cleaning up, Draco noticed that all of the Gryffindors had disappeared. Not a single one of them had stopped to see if Neville was alright.

This was made all the more obvious when Hannah, Justin, and Zach stopped by to check on Neville before heading to the Great Hall for lunch.

As they left the greenhouse, Ron was rambling on about the most annoying plants out there, with Neville offering some suggestions.

Draco wasn’t really paying attention to them as an idea was forming in his head. His palms grew sweaty and he had to focus on controlling his breathing as the three of them stepped into the Great Hall. When Neville turned away to go to the Gryffindor table, Draco managed to get out the words he’d been running over in his head during the walk.“Neville — um — do you want to join us? For lunch? At the Hufflepuff table?”

The Gryffindor boy froze, half turned away from Ron and Draco, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Wh—What?”

Ron grinned cheerfully and slapped a hand down on Neville’s shoulder, “Do ya wanna join us?”

“For lunch?” Draco repeated.

“Is that allowed?” Neville asked.

Draco nodded as Ron said, “Of course. My brother, Charlie, used to join Tonks at the Hufflepuff table all the time.”

Neville nodded slowly, “Uh, sure, I’d like that.”

“Good,” Ron said with a grin.

Draco grinned as well, feeling more relaxed now that he’d gotten the asking over with.

Neville continued to join them regularly for meals. Draco quite often got the feeling that Neville had had a very lonesome childhood. Rather like Draco’s own before Dora had appeared in his life. In the beginning, Ernie protested a Gryffindor sitting so regularly at their table, but gave up after a few days when he realized that his fellow housemates were ignoring him. Everyone else got on well with Neville and so had no issue with him joining them. They even took to playing Exploding Snap or other card games in the Great Hall on Saturday afternoons so that Neville could join them.

Before Draco knew it, September was over, and October had begun. The leaves changed and fell, making the world outside the castle much colder and harsher than anything Draco had ever seen before. Sunrise came later and later, making Ron happier, but Draco began setting the old alarm clock his mother had made him bring.

He rather liked having lots of time in the morning, though it was rather discouraging to wake up when the ceiling was as pitch black as it had been when he fell asleep.

Before Draco knew it, October was over.

The Halloween Feast was a spectacle. Between the decorations and the wide variety of treats, it outdid anything Draco had ever seen before.

“This is amazing!” Justin exclaimed when they entered the Great Hall.

“Of course it’s amazing,” Su Li said as she passed them on the way to Ravenclaw table, “Professor Flitwick did all of the charms.”

Justin and Ron made faces at the Ravenclaw girl’s back, and Zach opened his mouth to say something that was likely insulting, but Hannah clamped a hand over his mouth and, with Draco’s help, dragged their pompous friend to the Hufflepuff table. Purposefully seating him, so he was facing away from the Ravenclaw table. Snape had made Li and Zach work together on a potion the week before, and it had not ended well.

Once he had helped Hannah get Zach seated, he took his own seat at the end of the table, closest to the teachers. Ron, Neville, and Justin sat down on the other side of the table and eagerly poured themselves some pumpkin juice.  A thousand live bats swooped down over the Hufflepuff table just as the food appeared suddenly on the golden plates.

Draco dug in.

He was in the middle of putting butter on his baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall. The professor’s turban was askew, and his face was awash with terror.

The hall grew quiet, and everyone stared as Quirrell reached Professor Dumbledore’s chair. He was mere feet from Draco when he collapsed against the table and gasped, “Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know.”

He then sank to the floor, his head landing but a foot from Draco’s feet, and fainted.

The entire hall erupted into shouts and yells. Everyone around him jumped up. The bench shifted as Zach lept to his feet, but Draco couldn’t see anything. His eyes focused on the professor’s purple turban, but he didn’t really see it. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing began to accelerate.

He’d never before realized just how noisy the entire school could be.

_BANG!_

Draco jumped about a foot in the air, slamming his knees into the underside of the table. Making him gasp in pain as firecrackers exploded from Dumbledore’s wand.

“Prefects,” the headmaster rumbled, “lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”

“But the troll is in the dungeon!” This came from a familiar high-pitched voice over at the Slytherin table.

Draco managed to look up, eyes ignoring all of the Ravenclaws between him and Hermione Granger. Even from such a distance, he could see panic in her eyes. Panic that mirrored his own.

It was comforting. Seeing his own feelings mirrored on someone else.

He took a shaky breath and stared at the muggle-born girl, continuing to take deep, calming breaths as Dumbledore amended his instructions. The Slytherins were now headed to the infirmary. Like the common rooms, it only had one entrance.

“You alright, mate?” Ron’s voice, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder made Draco blink and look away from Hermione.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Hufflepuffs! Follow me!” their seventh-year prefect called out.

Draco turned with Ron to leave the Great Hall, but then froze. He frowned, looking down at the stone floor for a moment. He knew something was off but he couldn’t —

_Wait. Where was Quirrell?_

Where the professor had fainted was now empty. Ron was now standing in the exact same place where the turban-clad head had rested.

Looking up, his eyes scanned the hall. Students were filing out of the room behind the prefects. The teachers were long gone. Likely to find the troll.

“Draco?” Ron asked.

_There._

A flash of purple just before the small side door closed. The one that led to the room they had all waited in before being sorted just two months before.

“Professor Quirrell just got up and left that way,” Draco said, pointing. “Why?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oi! Weasley! Malfoy! Let’s go!” Diggory called out from near the doors to the hall.

Putting Quirrell’s behavior out of his mind, Draco hurried with Ron to catch up with their housemates. Likely their professor had left with Madam Pomfrey or another teacher for healing. It was the only thing that made sense.

oXoXoXo

Little crescent shapes decorated Hermione’s palms when she finally unclenched her hands halfway to the Hospital Wing.

_How did a troll get in Hogwarts? It was supposed to be the safest place in the magical world!_

“What’s he doing?” Harry hissed, grabbing on to Hermione and Tracey’s robes, pulling them to a standstill.

The other Slytherins continued walking, Pansy and Daphne shot Hermione a nasty look as they passed, but she ignored them as she had for the past two months. If they weren’t careful, their faces would freeze in that position.

She followed Harry’s finger and caught a glimpse of purple just before it disappeared around a corner.

“Who is that?” Hermione asked.

“Didn’t you see the turban,” Tracey hissed, “it was Quirrell!”

“But didn’t he faint in the Great Hall?” Hermione said with a frown. “Maybe he’s going to the infirmary?”

“No, the infirmary is in the opposite direction,” Harry said. “I think there are stairs over there to the third floor.”

“Isn’t the third floor forbidden?” Tracey asked.

Hermione nodded, “Yes. Dumbledore told us that at the start-of-term banquet. Something about there being a most painful death.”

“Then why is Quirrell going there?” Harry wondered, taking a step away from the hospital wing. “Maybe we should follow him.”

“Harry! We have to go the Hospital Wing! There’s a troll!”

“Shush, Hermione. Harry’s right. We can just take a peek up the stairs and then run and get help. Maybe Quirrell let the troll in. It would be a very good distraction,” Tracey mused.

Hermione gulped and looked around for help, and then immediately panicked when she saw they were the only students still in that part of the corridor. Tracey and Harry began hurrying towards the corner Quirrell had disappeared around.

She panicked and ran after them, grabbing onto their robes. “No! You can’t do this! We’ll get in trouble! There’s a—”

She was cut off abruptly as a low grunt followed by shuffling footfalls came from behind her. Mere seconds later a foul stench swept through the air. Terrified, her fingers went slack, and she turned around.

There, standing at the top of the stairs was what had to be the troll. It was truly a horrendous sight. The troll had a body that resembled a large boulder with limbs and a small, bald head on top.

She screamed.

Tracey’s hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her scream, but it was too late. The troll turned, its dim eyes focusing on Hermione. Moving forward it raised its club, banging it into a set of armor as it approached.

“RUN!” Harry shouted.

When Hermione found herself unable to move her arms were grabbed by Harry and Tracey, they pulled her behind them until she found the ability to stand on her own feet. They raced around the corner and ran smack into an invisible wall covering the bottom of the staircase. There was nowhere else to go as this was the end of the corridor.

She panicked and screamed again, terror filling her. There was nowhere else to run.

“Spread out!” Tracey shouted, shoving Hermione away from her in one direction while Harry went in another.

“Oy! Over here!” Harry shouted, yanked up a piece of the armor that had been scattered throughout the corridor and threw it at the troll’s head.

The troll didn’t even notice it. It continued moving forwards, now heading for Tracey. Harry and Hermione were behind the troll.

“Hermione! Run and get help!” Harry shouted, grabbing another piece of armor and lobbing it at the troll.

But she was unable to move. Her feet were locked in place, and her entire body was shaking in fear.

Tracey let out a yell and threw herself to the side, narrowly missing being squashed by the troll’s club.  Seeing this Harry did something that was incredibly stupid. So stupid it managed to pierce Hermione’s fear enough to make her take a step back.

Harry ran forwards, leaping into the air and climbing up the troll’s back like one might climb a mountain. He jammed his wand up the troll’s nose.

The troll howled with pain and began throwing itself around, trying to get Harry off of its shoulders.

Tracey tried to use the distraction to run around the troll, but it was at this point that it managed to give its head an extremely rough shake, and threw Harry off.

He landed on top of Tracey, and the two of them were tangled up on the floor as the troll raised its club high in the air once more, aiming at the two of them.

Tracey looked up in fear at the descending club and screamed, “HERMIONE! DO SOMETHING!”

Hermione’s heart lurched at the sight, and she scrambled for her wand, she almost dropped it twice, but she managed to raise it up.

There she froze. Unable to think of a single spell to cast.

“HERMIONE!” Harry and Tracey screamed together, trying to scramble out of the way.

“CAST—” Tracey started, but abruptly stopped as Harry’s elbow rammed into her stomach.

Her mind was blank, but her arm started to move. Forming the motions to the last spell she had cast. A swish and then a flick. Her mouth moved and formed words she wasn’t even sure she had remembered a second ago.

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_!”

The troll’s arm descended, but its club stayed in the air, hovering there above Tracey and Harry. It took a moment, but the troll realized that its hand was empty. It stopped and looked around rather stupidly as Harry and Tracey managed to scramble out from under the club.

Hermione slowly raised her wand and moved it, the club following along. She was sweating by the time she got the club positioned over the very confused troll.

CRACK!

The club landed on the troll’s bald head. The troll swayed on his feet before falling to the ground with a loud thud.

The relief that rushed through Hermione proved to be too much. She swayed on her own feet before following the troll to the ground, letting blackness overtake her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently in the mountains of North Carolina visiting my grandfather and so we lost power this week for about 24 hours due to Irma. Not as bad as the people in my home state, but pretty bad for a town so far from the coast and about 4k feet above sea level. That's why my betas only got this chapter 24 hours before ya'll did.
> 
> If anyone's interested, I not only have a tumblr under the name Enigmaticrose4, but I also have a Facebook page now if you're interested.


	10. Sweets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Tracey are questioned about the troll. Draco receives a package from Dora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to my amazing betas.

Harry could only watch from where he was sprawled across the floor as Hermione followed the troll to the ground and collapsed in a graceless pile. He scrambled to stand up, intent on rushing to Hermione’s side, but stepped on the hem of his robes and fell back to the ground, banging his knee against the hard stones. Wincing in pain, he tried to stand again; more carefully this time.

“This is not good,” Tracy said as she scrambled to her feet beside him. Effortlessly moving her robes out of her way. He supposed if one grew up wearing robes and dresses it became second nature to move wearing them.

“No, Miss Davis, it is most certainly not good.”

They jumped and spun, Harry almost tripping on his robes again. Standing at the corner of the corridor were Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Dumbledore. Harry gulped when he realized it was Headmaster Dumbledore that had spoken.

Harry opened his mouth to say something but found no words as sudden fear gripped him. Would they expel them for this? Would he be forced to go back to the Dursleys? All because he had been curious about where Quirrell was going? Had he just ruined Hermione and Tracey’s chances as well?

“Well, Mr. Potter, Miss Davis?” Professor McGonagall said coldly, “Care to explain why the two of you are with a mountain troll rather than in the infirmary with your classmates?”

“It’s not just them, Minerva. Another child is collapsed here, Miss Granger I believe.” As Professor Sprout said this, she strode purposefully over to Hermione and drew her wand to cast a few spells. “She appears only to have fainted, but to be sure I’ll take her to Poppy.”

Harry and Tracey watched as Hermione was magically lifted into the air and floated off under Professor Sprout’s control.

Once the two were gone Professor McGonagall pointedly cleared her throat, “Well? We’re waiting.”

“Indeed we are. Miss Davis, Mr. Potter?” This icy voice came from behind them, and Harry turned to see Professor Snape — a slight limp in his step — finish descending the staircase that had been magically blocked just moments before.

Harry had no words to say, but luckily Tracey did.

“We had no choice, professors!” As she said this her eyes grew wide, and her entire demeanor shifted as if she now realized that the danger has passed. “We were going to the infirmary, but then one of Harry’s trainers came untied. Hermione and I stopped to wait with him while he fixed it. When he finished, we were a—alone.” She said the last word with a nervous stutter, her fingers beginning to play nervously with the fastenings on her robes. “We turned to hurry off, but this horrible stench came. I—I almost fainted it was so bad. The—the troll was there! Right behind us! We turned to run towards the infirmary, but Hermione pointed out that we’d be leading the troll to the other students. So we turned to run this way. Harry said we could run up to the third floor, circle around, then come back down and get to the infirmary. But—but,” here she let out a sob and tears began to fall, “the stairs were sealed! We were trapped!” She then broke down and began to sob in earnest.

Harry reached over and patted her shoulder, before staring up defiantly at the adults. He didn’t like lying to teachers, but he refused to let his friends be punished because he’d wanted to figure out a mystery. And he wasn’t exactly new to lying. He didn’t like it, but sometimes you had to lie to stop the truth from causing pain. He could thank the Dursleys for that lesson.

“We tried to confuse it, to run around it and back downstairs,” he said, continuing Tracey’s story, being sure to add enough truth to support the earlier lies. “Hermione and I got at the back, but Tracey was trapped. I threw things at it, but they did nothing. So I leapt on it’s back and jammed my wand up its nose. Tracey almost got away, but I fell off and landed on her. We were about to be smashed when Hermione levitated the club and dropped it on the troll’s head. Then she fainted.”

McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Snape stared at the two students, obviously evaluating their story. Finally Dumbledore gave a small, sad smile. “I am saddened that this event occurred, Hogwarts should be a safe place, but I also am gladdened to see three first-years do so well in such a terrible situation. Thirty points to each of you for keeping your head in a dangerous situation and working together. Severus?”

Professor Snape, his face showing surprise, looked over at the Headmaster, “Yes, Albus?”

“Please determine why none of your prefects noticed three first-years falling behind after you escort these two back to the safety of the hospital wing. Minerva, Filius, let’s dispose of this troll and then ensure that the castle is secure.”

A few moments later Harry and Tracey found themselves being escorted to the hospital wing by their head of house. The professor limped slightly as he walked and Harry found himself wondering why. He also wondered where Quirrell had gotten to. The Defense professor had to have gone up those stairs, but the Potions professor had come down them by himself. And he was obviously injured. Just what had happened up there?

He set his jaw and glanced over at Tracey to see that she was also observing Snape curiously out of the corner of her eye. Yes, there was _definitely_ a mystery here. And he was determined to figure it out.

oXoXoXo

A few days after Halloween Draco received a package. Pulling it open he smiled down at the contents. A small letter simply read, ‘Happy Halloween!’ in Dora’s bold and slightly messy scrawl.

“Woah!” Justin exclaimed, looking over Draco’s shoulder. “That’s a lot of sweets! Didn’t you say your mum always made you eat healthy?”

Draco pulled out some chocolate frogs and tossed one to each of his friends. “They’re not from mum. My cousin, Dora, sent them. She’s been smuggling me sweets on the holidays ever since she learned I only got sweets rarely. Says sugar is an important food group.”

That raised a few chuckles as everyone opened their frogs, completely forgetting about the breakfast now growing cold in front of them.

“Thank Merlin for Tonks,” Ron said as he licked a little bit of chocolate from his fingers. “Wonder why she was late this year, though. Do ya think training is going alright?”

“Training?” Justin asked as he tucked his chocolate frog card in a pocket. “What’s she training for?”

“Dora’s going to be an auror,” Draco answered. “And I think she’s doing fine. She mentioned in her last letter that she’s struggling with stealth training, but her concealment and disguise scores are making up for it. She probably just had a training exercise over Halloween.”

“That or they put the trainees to work. My aunt says that all the crazies come out on Halloween,” said Susan Bones.

Susan was Hannah’s roommate. While she couldn’t really be considered part of their group, since she seemed to prefer spending time alone. One thing was for sure, that she wasn’t close to Sally-Anne Perks and Sophie Roper. Those two girls were as inseparable as Draco and Ron, but much less willing to make other friends.

“It’s the same in the muggle world,” Justin said. “I heard father saying once to the local magistrate that holidays were as dangerous as they were profitable.”

They all finished up breakfast soon after that and made plans to head to the library and get their homework done. None of them had accomplished anything on Saturday, but then, they hadn’t expected to. Draco picked up his box and told everyone he’d meet them in the library. There was no way Madam Pince would let him bring a box of sweets into her library.

“Want me to come with?” Ron asked as he slung his school bag over his shoulder.

Draco shook his head, “No, I’ll just drop it off and head up to the library.”

“Well, if you’re sure, see you in a bit.” Ron went off with Hannah, Zach, Justin, and Neville. Susan grabbed another strip of bacon before ambling after them.

Draco was at the point where the entrance to the cellar split off from the dungeon path when someone called his name.

Stopping, he turned to see two older Slytherin boys approaching him, one of them with a prefect’s badge on his robes. Instantly Draco froze, and his heart began to pound in his chest. He didn’t know these boys. The prefect was tall and skinny, with a nose that was rather long and pointed, like a rat’s. The other was short and looked a bit like a gorilla with enormous hairy arms.

The prefect gave Draco a smile that didn’t reach his eyes as he drew his wand. “Well, look at we have here Graham: a lost little Hufflepuff. What do you say we show him why baby badgers should never travel alone?”

Graham grinned. His smile reached his eyes, and it was terrifying. “Sounds like a plan, Archie.”

Draco let out a squeak and stepped backward, letting go of the box with one hand and trying to grab his wand, but he was too slow. Archie flicked his wand and whispered a spell. Draco’s entire body was coated in some sort of oil. When he grabbed his wand, it went flying. Panicked, he tried to snatch it, dropping the box of sweets in his desperate attempt to retrieve his wand. As he took a step his foot slipped in the oil. He went flying, yelping as he landed flat on his back, all the air rushing out of his chest.

He fought to breathe. His lungs straining against pained ribs as the older boys laughed.

“Hey!”

The new voice was filled with fury, and Draco tilted his head, grimacing at the pain to see Percy Weasley storming down on them, a tall blonde at his side. She also sported a prefect’s badge and had her wand raised.

“None of your business, Weasel-head,” Archie snarled, pointing his own wand at Percy. “This is Slytherin-Hufflepuff business. Be on your way.”

The girl took up a defensive stance, “Like hell, we’ll be on our way, Barrow. You’re bullying this boy. And I’d guess you used a hex on him. Attacking a student and casting a spell in the hallway - you don’t deserve to be prefect.”

“Shut it, Clearwater. Or you’ll be next,” Graham sneered.

“Careful, Montague, even Snape won’t defend you about this,” Percy stated coldly, his old wand now drawn.

“Oh, really?” Archie Barrow snarled. “You think he cares about a little Hufflepuff?”

Percy gave a little laugh, one that Draco had never heard before. He’d known the older boy for years now and he’d always seen him as rather stuck-up and bookish. But the way he appeared now...he reminded him of his Aunt Andy. Ron had told him that the Sorting Hat had been about to put Ron in Gryffindor just because he had been a Weasley; before agreeing that Ron was a good Hufflepuff. Should Percy have been in Slytherin?

“You’re such an idiot, Barrow. Anyone that studies the last war knows that Snape was a Death Eater. He was good friends with a number of people now occupying Azkaban. Do you really think he’d be alright with his good friend Lucius’ son being attacked by his own students? He may have been cleared by the Headmaster, but it’s also true that Snape still favors any of his students that had family members on You-Know-Who’s side.”

That made Draco think for a moment. He’d never heard of Professor Snape before Dora had told him about the Potions Master of Hogwarts. Did his mother know Snape from before? Maybe. After all, she had been able to answer Harry’s questions about Snape.

“Lies!” Graham Montague snarled, though Barrow had grown thoughtful.

“Oh, shut up, Montague. We all know Barrow only tolerates you because you follow orders. Now, why don’t you scurry along like a good dog and we’ll forget about this?” Clearwater said, while still keeping her wand pointed threateningly at Montague.

Montague let out a growl and made to leap at Clearwater, but Barrow reached out and laid a hand on him. “Calm, Graham. These two idiots _do_ have a few points. This time.” He turned to look at Draco for a moment before turning his attention back to the two prefects. “Fine, I’ll stand down and not bother Malfoy again if you keep silent on this.”

“Promise?” Clearwater asked.

Barrow nodded, “Do you promise?”

“We do,” Percy and Clearwater said together.

Barrow relaxed and slipped his wand back into his holster. After a moment Montague and Clearwater did the same.

That was when Percy acted. He’d been lowering his wand, but hadn’t quite put it away yet. Once his wand was the only one out, he gave it a sharp swipe as he bit out a spell. Montague and Barrow slammed into each other, their heads thunking together. A quick jab and another spell sent them flying into the wall, where they stayed. Stuck to the wall like flies in a web.

Dazedly they blinked at Percy as he strode over to them. At the same time, Clearwater drew her wand and cleaned the oil off of Draco before helping him stand up. He was shaky and covered in sweat, but he found it much easier to breathe than he had before. Though his entire back ached and he was beginning to develop a headache.

“You alright?” Clearwater asked.

Draco nodded, unable to form any coherent words as his eyes roved around, searching for his wand. He found it lying amid the spilled sweets. Kneeling, he picked up his wand and began putting all the sweets back in the box.

When he finished, he looked up to see Percy, a terrifying expression on his face, whispering to Barrow and Montague. Clearwater stood nearby, a smug expression on her face. After a minute or so Percy stepped back, cast a spell that sent the two Slytherins tumbling off the wall.

They scrambled to their feet, took one look at Percy, and then took off running. Draco rather felt like doing the same when he looked back up at Percy. He’d once thought the twins were scary, but apparently, they weren’t the only ones that had gotten Mrs. Weasley’s scary streak.

Once the two Slytherins were gone Percy’s entire demeanor changed once more, slipping back into the one that Draco had come to know. For a moment he thought he had imagined it, but a quick look at Clearwater and the way she was staring at Percy changed his mind.

Draco stood, holding his box of sweets. Percy reached in and snagged two cauldron cakes, tossing one to Clearwater. “You alright, Draco?”

He nodded, opened his mouth to say yes, but found his mouth still unable to work properly.

“Very good. We’ll be off then. Be careful and let me know if they bother you again. Alright? Or if they bother, Ron. That boy’s too stubborn to admit he needs help. And we family have to stick together. Now, we still have patrols to finish before we can get to studying, so I’ll be seeing you around. Coming, Penelope?” Percy slipped his wand into his pocket and gallantly held out an arm for the Ravenclaw prefect.

She took it and then smiled over at Draco. “Don’t be afraid to come to me as well if you need help. I can’t stand bullies.”

Draco stood there in the hallway for several minutes after the two fifth-years had left. He tried to organize his thoughts and make sense of what was going on his head, but it was well beyond him. Not even being in Flourish and Blotts and surrounded by wizards and witches had been as scary as Montague and Barrow attacking him.

And then when his wand had gotten away from him…

He started to hyperventilate, and his entire body began to shake.

Stumbling, he slipped into a nearby broom cupboard and sank to the floor. Bending forward he pressed his forehead to the cold stone floor and tried to regain control of himself, but it only helped a little. As each intake of air came, it morphed, changing until it could only be called a sob. Tears poured from his eyes and snot ran from his nose as he began sobbing in earnest.

The entire time he cried his right hand was clenched tightly around his wand, the box of sweets laying beside him, completely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Draco needs a hug. And Hermione is going to have words to share with Tracey and Harry when she wakes up.
> 
> And, yes, I'm reusing Barrow and Montague as Slytherin bullies. Though what they're doing here isn't as bad as what they did in Brightest Black.


	11. Gainful Employment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets some studying in. Draco begins to deal with what happened to him. Narcissa has an important conversation with her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to my betas :)

Hermione pointedly ignored the two pairs of eyes boring into the back of her head as she tried to do her homework in the library. She was angry and she was not going to let Harry and Tracey forget that anytime soon. Not after they had been so unapologetic about nearly getting the three of them killed.

All because they thought they’d found a crime in the making.

She sniffed and flipped open the book in front of her, going to the chapter on hovering charms so she could write her essay. It was outrageous how the two of them had acted after she woke up in the hospital wing. She just didn’t know how to respond to them.

_ “Harry! Hermione is awake!”  _

_ Tracey’s words weren’t loud, but they made Hermione’s head pound. She didn’t remember the troll clobbering her on the head, but it sure felt like it had happened. _

_ “How do you feel?” Harry asked as his face appeared in her field of view.  _

_ She gasped in pain and reached up to cover her ears. “Not so loud.” _

_ “I’ll get Madam Pomfrey,” Tracey said before hurrying away. _

_ Hermione didn’t know how long it took for the mediwitch to arrive, but she was grateful that Harry said nothing while they waited. _

_ “Headache?” Madam Pomfrey said quietly when she appeared. _

_ Hermione started to nod, but stopped when a wave of nausea ran through her. She grimaced. _

_ “Drink this, then close your eyes and rest for about five minutes. If the pain doesn’t leave let me know. Stress headache exasperated by that bump on your head.” _

_ The words were hard for Hermione to follow, but she managed to understand enough that she happily drank down the oily potion held to her lips. _

_ The mediwitch bustled away as Hermione closed her eyes. She floated for a few minutes in a sea of pain-filled darkness. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the pain was gone. She opened her eyes and sat up, her friends instantly reappearing at her side. _

_ The pain had been so bad before she hadn’t even realized they had left. _

_ “Feel better?” Harry asked. _

_ “Yes, what happened?” _

_ “You fainted, after the troll. Then the teachers showed up. Harry and I lied a bit, so we’re not in trouble. AND we got thirty points each for Slytherin!” Tracey said in a rush, after looking around to make sure no one else was nearby. _

_ There was a privacy screen around Hermione’s bed. Through it she could see shadows, so it was likely the rest of Slytherin House was in the Infirmary. The lack of sound, though, indicated some sort of silencing spell.  _

_ She wondered if she could find and learn it for her dorm. _

_ That thought went as quickly as it came. Her brain had latched onto one of the words Tracey had said. _

_ “You  ** lied ** ? To a teacher?!?” She gasped. _

_ “Of course,” Tracey said. _

_ “Sometimes you have to lie,” Harry said. “But there’s more that’s even more important.” _

_ That worried her. What was worse than lying to teachers about a troll attack? What was more important than the fact they had just survived said troll attack? _

_ “More?” _

_ “Snape came down that staircase, the one Quirrell went up. I got to thinking, and Tracey agrees, that one or both of them is after whatever Dumbledore has hiding in the third floor corridor. You know, that thing we read about in the newspaper at Hagrid’s.” _

_ She stared at them. _

_ They were worrying about the ** possibility  ** of a teacher stealing something being guarded by one of the most powerful wizards in the world? They thought said possible theft was more important than the fact that the three of them had almost  ** died ** ?!? That they could have been  ** expelled ** !?! _

_ Her eyes narrowed and her lips grew tight with anger. “Don’t you two care that we could have DIED?!?” _

_ “Well, yes, but we’re alright now. No point worrying about what could have happened,” Harry said. _

_ Tracey nodded in agreement. _

_ Hermione stared at the two of them, utterly flabbergasted. Her anger had completely disappeared in the face of this ridiculous logic. “You _ —you—”

_ “Mr. Potter, Miss Davis, Professor Snape is here to escort you and your House back to the dungeons,” Madam Pomfrey said, appearing from around the screen. “Miss Granger I would like you to stay the night. That was a nasty bump. How’s the headache?” _

_ “It’s—it’s fine. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione managed to say as she watched her two friends hurry away — not even saying goodnight. _

It was now Sunday morning and she hadn’t spoken to them since Friday night. She was angry, but it was more than that, she just didn’t know what to say. 

Shoving her thoughts aside she dived into her Charms essay, but found herself pulled back out of it a few minutes later by someone clearing their throat. She looked up angrily, a scalding line on her tongue as she prepared to tell Harry and Tracey to go away. Said line tumbled right out of her mind at the sight of five Hufflepuffs and one Gryffindor standing by the table. 

“Mind if we sit here?” Ron asked. “The other tables are either full or have older students using them.”

She looked down at the table, big enough for eight, but currently half-covered with her study materials. She sighed, “Fine, hold on.” Grabbing books and rolls of parchment she quickly made room for them to sit. 

Most of the Hufflepuffs were mysteries to her, she’d only seen them in the Great Hall or Library, but she did know the Gryffindor rather well. 

“Morning, Neville. Did you finish that Potions essay?” Hermione asked as Neville took a seat across from her.

He shook his head, “Not yet. I only read the chapter. Planned to wait until this morning so I could ask Draco a question. He’s as good at Potions as you are. What are you working on?”

She glanced around the Hufflepuffs, noticing that there was no silver-haired Malfoy. Which was odd, as she’d never seen him far from the red-haired Weasley. “Where is Draco? I thought he and Ron were inseparable.”

“He got a package from his cousin. Sweets, so Pince would flip if he brought them here. He just ran down to our common room, he’ll be here soon,” Ron answered, though she hadn’t addressed the question to him.“By the way, did you finally ditch that Davis girl? Did she insult you too?” 

Hermione wrinkled her nose, conflicted. Did she defend Tracey? They were currently at odds and Tracey had been unwilling to apologize to Ron. But she really couldn’t go into why they were at odds. Getting them in trouble now, after the lies, was not a good idea. So, she simply shrugged, “We’ve had a difference of opinion. We’ll get over it. By the way, she says she didn’t mean to insult you. Draco’s dad was really mean to her dad at Hogwarts. And Tracey is protective of Harry.”

“Then she should apologize,” one of the Hufflepuff girls said flatly. It was the one with long dirty blonde hair, held back in a plait.

“Yes, she should,” said the dark-haired, aristocratic looking boy.

The other two nodded in agreement and Hermione felt her face heat up. She agreed with them, but she also felt like it was wrong to let others correct her friend. Flustered, she stood up, “I’ll leave you the table and go study in the common room.”

“Hermione, you don’t have to go,” Neville said, throwing his Hufflepuff friends a nervous glance. 

She quickly stuffed her things in her bag. “No worries, Neville. I left my spare parchment in my dormitory. I’ll see you around, okay? Bye.” 

She was out of the library before she realized she’d been putting her spare parchment in her bag when she’d said goodbye.  _ Oh, yes, she was just a marvelous liar, wasn’t she? _

That thought brought back Harry and Tracey’s thoughts on lying and just why they had lied two days ago. She felt less conflicted now. She’d sit with them at breakfast tomorrow and give them an earful on the importance of life, but maybe they were onto something about this possible theft. 

She turned a corner and stopped when she realized she was on the third floor and the door in front of her was to the forbidden corridor. 

Just what was behind that door?

Sort of curious, she walked up and pressed her ear to the door. Hearing nothing she tried the handle, but found it locked. Next she crouched down and looked through the keyhole. Like one of the characters in an old mystery novel. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at as the keyhole gave an extremely limited view. 

She froze, fear flooding her as she took in the fact that there was a gigantic three-headed dog inside of Hogwarts.

_ Why? _

_ What was so important to warrant two dangerous magical creatures? _

Because she knew the troll was connected to what was behind this door somehow. Shivering she yanked her gaze away from the dog and searched the room he was in. She almost missed it, but the glint of metal hinges in the light caught her gaze. The dog was standing on a trap door.

Standing up she walked away. Her thoughts were conflicted. Before Halloween she’d always thought being in trouble in school was the worst thing that could happen. For the past day she’d thought dying was actually the worst thing. But now, after seeing that the Headmaster was keeping a giant three-headed dog in the school, she had to wonder. Could someone stealing whatever the dog was guarding possibly be worse than almost dying?

That bore some thought. And  _ — _ possibly  _ — _ some research.

oXoXoXo

Draco didn’t know how long it took to compose himself enough to stand and leave the broom cupboard. He did know that it took at least three chocolate frogs to even consider leaving the small room. And another two before he was able to stand up and straighten out his robes.

Once on his feet he took several deep breathes, shoved his fear in a box, and put his wand back on his hip. Before Barrow and Montague had come along he’d felt invincible with his wand. Now…

Now he didn’t.

Hefting the box of sweets he left the broom cupboard and hurried to the Hufflepuff Common Roon. Every little sound made him jump and look around nervously and he breathed a huge sigh of relief as he knocked on the barrel to enter the common room.

The room was mostly empty, just a few upperclassman using it. He didn’t take the time to look around as he hurried to his room. Once there he shut and latched the door, pressing his back to it and taking deep breathes, letting the familiar comfort of his home away from home soak into him.

Feeling better, he put the box on top of his trunk and sat at his desk. First he wrote a quick thank you note to Dora. He knew he’d tell Ron about what had happened, but he needed a cover story with the others on why he was late. And he didn’t want to lie.

Note finished, he tucked it to the side and pulled out another piece of parchment and began to write. He made sure not to leave out a single detail as he wrote. Just like he would do if he was sitting in Uncle Frank’s office and actually talking to the man. It hurt to relive it, tears burned at his eyes as went over the helplessness and pain brought on by the attack, followed by the relief at being rescued by Percy and Clearwater.

When he was finished he was shaking, but he already felt better. It went against his natural inclination to look closely at his feelings and relive his worst moments, but he knew that he had to do it.

Uncle Frank called it cathartic.

Carefully he folded up the parchment and wrote a short note to Uncle Frank, telling him that he felt better already, but he still wanted advice. 

He slipped the letters into his bag before going into the small toilet attached to their room and washing his face. Looking in the mirror he could tell that he had been crying, but hopefully that look would leave him by the time he ran up to the owlry and back to the library.

Feeling better, he left the common room, not noticing the worried look Cedric gave him from his spot studying by the fireplace.

oXoXoXo

Narcissa was bored. It had been two long months since Draco had gone off to Hogwarts and there were just so many hours she could spend reading, taking care of the books, or visiting her sister.

Not that she’d ever tell Andy that. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh in boredom as she looked out over the Tonks small back garden.

“You know, if you’re bored, I can find you something to do,” Andy said, making Narcissa jump. She’d thought her sister was still inside, putting tea together.

“Do you have to walk so quietly?” she grumbled.

Andy laughed, “I wasn’t walking quietly. You’re just too stuck in your own thoughts. You’re bored, aren’t you? The last decade was spent centered around your son and now you have too much time on your hands.” When Narcissa said nothing, her sister continued, “I had the same issue. It’s why I got into editing. I could work from home, so no issues during the summer, but it kept me busy. Do you want me to give you some work? I know you had as many English lessons as I did growing up.”

Narcissa thought about that. She’d never worked a day in her life. Not after leaving Hogwarts. “What does editing entail?”

“I work with the writers as they plan their story. Then I read it after they finish, as well as during the process. Together we make sure the story flows well. Most of my clients are native English speakers, but a few of them aren’t. They mostly publish nonfiction, so I also see about getting beta readers that are knowledgeable in the content area. If you want, I can let you work with one of my clients. It’s easy to edit her work as her novels are published in French first and her French editor is very good.”

“Why does she need an English editor?” Narcissa asked, curious.

“Alianore is bilingual and her English is quite good, so she translates her own work. Something about artistic integrity. She needs me to ensure that the story still makes sense. Not to mention all the other little issues that occur in a translated work. Interested? I have her latest story on my desk. It’s quite good. I gave it a quick read-through, but haven’t started working on it yet.”

Slowly Narcissa nodded, it wouldn’t hurt to at least read this story. And it would be something for her to do at home, while Draco was away.

“I’ll be right back then, help yourself to some tea,” Andy said as she stood up and strode into the house.

Narcissa watched her go, wondering just how she felt at the idea of working. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t anything she’d considered doing before. Well, she’d just have to read this Alianore’s novel and decide if this sounded interesting. 

Andy came back and handed over a thick pile of papers bound together with some odd metal pieces. “Here’s the manuscript. I made a copy so you can keep this one. Take it home, read it over, and let me know. If you’re interested we can take a trip over to France and meet her for tea. Alianore will need to approve you taking over, though you’ll be working under me so we won’t have to redraw the contract.”

Narcissa set down her teacup and picked up the manuscript she saw that it was titled ‘Little Ones’ by Alianore Roux.

“Why does the name Roux sound familiar?”

“You’ve likely heard Draco or Ron going on about Zackarie Roux. He’s a French Keeper and has the highest record for saved goals in a single game of Quidditch. Alianore is his older sister.”

“Ah, I see.” She slipped the manuscript into her purse and picked her teacup back up. “Now, enough about work.” She smiled as those words crossed her own lips, “How is Nymphadora doing in auror training?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya'll have a good weekend!


	12. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione kind of makes up with Tracy and Harry. Draco receives a response from Uncle Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Saintdionysus, Julist, and Ladybear92 for beta reading this :)

“I still can’t believe Percy acted like that,” Ron said for about the hundredth time since Draco had told him what happened. “I mean, not that he came to your rescue. That’s his duty as a prefect, but that he went under the table and threatened Barrow and Montague…”

“Yes, Ron. I know. Can you drop it? Please?” Draco asked, yanking open the door of their dormitory. He’d told Ron because the two of them didn’t keep secrets, but he didn’t want to dwell on what had happened. There had been no response from Uncle Frank yet, and he’d had trouble sleeping last night. Every hour he’d been awake, checking under his pillow to make sure his wand was still there.

“Sorry, Draco. I’ll drop it,” Ron said apologetically as the two of them made their way to breakfast. “We have Herbology right after breakfast, right? Do you remember the fourth use for goose gorse pollen? I keep forgetting it, and I’m sure we have a quiz today.”

Their conversation was fully entrenched in herbology by the time they took a seat at the Hufflepuff table. Draco was grateful when Neville and Hannah joined them. It meant that when his little tawny owl, Demetri, arrived no one paid too much attention. Absently he gave Demetri a bit of bacon before opening the letter from Uncle Frank.

_Dear Draco,_

_I’m sorry to hear about what happened, but I’m very glad to hear that Percy Weasley was there for you. You were right to share the experience and let out your feelings about it. From what you have said it was not the attack that caused you to panic, but rather the loss of your wand._

_I would like to examine this. You admitted to me back in August that the presence of your wand made you feel safe. This, combined with your discomfort around large groups of magical folk, leads me to believe that you associate magic both as a threat and as something to bring security — a weapon rather than a tool. In the possession, of strangers, it is to be feared, but in your possession, it is a means of protection. A wand is the physical manifestation of magic in your mind._

_Or that is what I am lead to believe from my years of working with you and what you have said. Please correct me if my words are incorrect._

Draco had never truly put words to his feelings on magic, but what Uncle Frank said was true. That’s why he didn’t feel fear when his mother cast a spell, or when practicing in the classroom with his fellow Hufflepuffs. He trusted them not to hurt him with their magic. He knew it made no sense. No one had ever hurt him with magic. But the fear was real, and he knew he had to live with it if he wanted to be the best he could be.

_I know there was no exact moment that caused you to think this way. Rather it is likely due to your isolated upbringing and the circumstances behind. It will take time and a lot of effort for you to not see magical strangers as automatic threats. We’ll begin working on that when you come home for your winter break._

_In the meantime, I have a suggestion. I know I am a muggle, but I’ve known about the magical world since I was a young boy. You can not imagine my disappointment when I failed to receive a Hogwarts letter like my brother. I will freely admit that I had several terrible years as I learned to deal with the knowledge that magic existed, but I had no right or claim to it. During this time, I borrowed my brother’s owl when he was home and used it to order many books on magic. You see, I hoped there was a kind of magic I could use. This leads me to my current suggestion to you._

_While it will take years to overcome your natural fear, we can begin working now on your dependence on your wand. There is a magical school in Africa called Uagadou. There they primarily learn magic without wands. If you could learn to cast some defensive spells or even a spell to recover your wand if lost, then it should help you._

_I have spoken to your aunt, Andromeda. One of the authors she edits for went to Uagadou. She has promised to write him and ask about wandless magic. In the meantime, I have enclosed a list of books that contain information on wandless magic, albeit from a European viewpoint._

_Please, let me know if you need anything. And I suggest you tell your mother about what happened when you see her. I will not break your confidence, but she has a right to know._

_Best Wishes,_

_Frank Tonks_

As soon as  Draco finished he went back to the top of the letter and reread it, marveling at the idea presented in it.

He’d only ever heard of great witches and wizards doing things wandlessly. But if an entire school in Africa only learned wandless magic....

Well, not all of them could be great magic users.

He glanced down, touching the part of his wand that stuck out of the holster. He felt safe just touching it. How would he feel if he could just wave his hand and make magic happen?

The idea was incredible.

oXoXoXo

Hermione didn’t say a word as she took a seat across from Tracey and Harry at breakfast on Monday. She pointedly did not spare them a glance as she prepared her plate. Anger still coursed through her, but she was going to set it aside for now.

Harry cleared his throat, “Um, Hermione?”

She looked up at him, “Yes?”

“Are you talking to us again?”

She stared at him pointedly, then looked over at Tracey. “I’m talking right now, aren’t I?”

They nodded, and Tracey said, “So you’re not angry anymore?”

“I didn’t say that,” Hermione said as she grabbed a piece of toast and spread marmalade on it.

“Then why…?” Harry asked.

She took a bite of her toast and chewed thoughtfully, making them wait. After she swallowed, she delicately wiped her mouth before saying, “I’m still angry, but I’ve also come to realize that some things are more important. Or could be more important. We’ll have to see after we do some more research.”

“Research?” they asked together. Twin looks of confusion on their faces.

Hermione nodded, “Of course. We have to figure out what’s behind that door after all.”

They could only gape at her as she returned to eating her breakfast. Okay, maybe she was a little less angry now.

oXoXoXo

Draco wrote back to Uncle Frank but didn’t share the contents of the letter with Ron until he received a poorly translated book on wandless magic by one Tayo Oladele. Included was a short note from his aunt.

_Draco,_

_I can only guess as to why Frank is having me send you a book on wandless magic. Don’t worry; I won’t tell your mother. Just please be careful._

_Love,_

_Aunt Andromeda_

_P.S. I apologize for the abysmal translation. I’m currently trying to locate Mr. Oladele to see if I can help edit and publish a better version._

He snickered at that. He didn’t know much about what his aunt did, but he knew she took offense at poorly written books. He’d listened to her tear apart ‘Year of the Yeti’ by Gilderoy Lockhart for failing to cite any sources last summer.

“What’s so funny?” Ron asked as he leaned over to look at the letter in Draco’s hand.

Draco snorted and handed over the letter before carefully opening the thin book and checking out the table of contents.

“Is this about what happened on Sunday?” Ron asked quietly.

Draco nodded, glad their friends were engaged in a rather animated discussion on just why quidditch was better than all muggle sports. Justin was adamant that nothing could beat polo or football. Draco himself had to disagree, but he figured Justin would learn better next week when Gryffindor played Slytherin for the first game of the season.

“Do you want to try practicing after class today? We can find an empty classroom.”

“That would be swell,” Draco said quietly before closing the book and slipping it into his bag. “Can we not tell anyone? I don’t want to advertise that I’m doing this.”

“My lips are sealed,” Ron said solemnly before stuffing his mouth with an entire piece of toast. He then pointed at it and pretended to be unable to talk.

Draco laughed, feeling grateful he had such a good friend in Ron.

oXoXoXo

Hermione grabbed another book on rare magical artifacts, piling it on top of the already large stack of books in Harry’s arms.

He groaned, “Do the books all have to be so heavy?”

She shushed him, “The best books are always heavy. Sturdier materials and more information. Now, I think that’s the last one. Go bring them to Tracey. I’ll be over in a minute.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes, your majesty.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to retort, but he sped away from her. Disappearing around a corner so quickly it was almost as if he’d used magic.

Carefully she looked over the shelves, searching for anything possibly useful, but it appeared as if she’d already found the best books.

When she joined Tracey and Harry, they were already poring over the books she’d found. Sitting she grabbed one and got to work.

Time to compose a list of likely objects hidden in Hogwarts.

oXoXoXo

“So, what’s the first thing to do?” Ron asked, throwing his bag carelessly on the floor before joining Draco where he sat, pouring over Oladele’s book on wandless magic.

“Chapter one is about finding your core. It’s hard to tell with the translation, but it seems to require meditation.”

“Your core?” Ron asked. “Isn’t that just nonsense? I mean, we wave a wand, say a few words, and a spell is cast. Can’t that work with hands?”

“Not from what I can see. Wands are a shortcut. It looks like the difference between apparating and portkeys. Apparating requires a lot more thought and understanding than portkeys, but both let you travel long differences.”

“So a wand is like a portkey?”

“Looks that way. Maybe that’s why only great wizards and witches here use wandless magic. They’re good enough at magic that they take the time to truly understand themselves. For everyone else, wands are just easier.”

“This sounds like a lot of work,” Ron grumbled.

Draco looked up from the book, meeting his red-haired friend’s eyes. “You don’t have to do this with me.”

Ron looked affronted, “Of course I do! You’re my best mate! I’m not going to let you do this alone. Not when it’s so important to you.”

A warm fuzzy feeling settled in Draco’s chest and he smiled, fighting the rather odd and sudden urge to tear up. “Thanks, Ron.”

“Don’t mention it. Now, what do we do first?”

Draco looked back down at the book. “It says here to ‘Sit still and think on magic. Feed it. Reach out and grasp magic. Shape and form it. Say spell and picture result. Move hand if necessary.”

Ron grimaced, “Woah, that is a bad translation. Is that really what it says?”

“Yes, and it doesn’t get any better from what I saw. I think it’s because there isn’t a large interest in wandless magic here. No profit in making a better translation.”

“Ugh, okay. Well. Let’s give it a try. Maybe it’s like flying. We had to think on it a lot when learning, but now we fly without thinking. So what spell should we try first? Lumos?”

Draco stood and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to reach down and touch his wand for reassurance. “Lumos is a good idea. It’s just light. Want to do it at the same time or take turns?”

“How about we take turns? You go first, and I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

He nodded and looked around. Meditation sounded like sitting on the floor, but he didn’t want to sit on the cold floor. His eyes caught on a long bench against one wall. Going over, he yanked it away from the wall before sitting down and crossing his legs.

Taking long, deep breathes he closed his eyes.

He tried, he really tried, but every time he began to feel relaxed Ron would shift and make noise or his nose would begin to itch. He tried using the same breathing techniques he used when in crowds or meeting new people, but it didn’t work. He couldn’t focus without the fear and panic he normally felt when doing this. Why would it be harder with no real distractions?

And now he was distracting himself by thinking about distractions. This wasn’t working.

He groaned and opened his eyes, feeling very discouraged.

“I’m getting nowhere. How about you try?”

Ron did no better than Draco.

“Maybe we need a teacher?” Ron asked, groaning as he stretched out stiff muscles.

“Who could teach us? I’ve only ever heard of the Headmaster doing wandless magic, and he wouldn’t take the time to teach two first years.”

“You’re right. Then maybe we should keep trying? Maybe do it in our room before bed every night. It could just take time.”

Draco thought about it for a minute before nodding. “It could, after all, we’re already used to using wands to cast spells. Maybe that’s hindering us.”

“Or maybe we’re just terrible at meditating. Dunno ‘bout you, but I never knew my nose could ever get that itchy.” Ron gave his nose a strong rub, turning his skin red.

“I could ask Uncle Frank for a few books on meditation. I know he has some, he showed them to me when I was learning ways to relax and control my reaction in public,” Draco said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go. It’s almost dinner.”

“Right.” Ron picked his own bag up off the floor. “And getting a few books on meditation certainly couldn’t hurt.”

Ron seemed upbeat and rather positive, but Draco didn’t. He wasn’t sure why he’d even recommended meditation books. It likely wouldn’t make a difference. Sighing, he grabbed the Oladele book and stuck it in his bag.

Ron stood by the door, waiting for him. He took one look at Draco’s face and gave a comforting smile. “Hey, don’t be so down, Draco. We’ll get this. Okay? Remember learning to fly and handle the quaffle at the same time? How many times we almost fell off our brooms or flubbed a pass? We’ll get this; it will just take time.”

It didn’t feel that way — this was so much more important than learning to play quidditch. But, still, he nodded and smiled. “You’re right. It’s just important. That’s all. Thanks, Ron.”

“Don’t mention it. Let’s go, I don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m starving. Who knew meditation could make you so hungry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about there being no update last week. I had my reasons, as I said on my tumblr and facebook page. Thank you for being understanding and I hope you have a good weekend.


	13. Progress Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa begins to work. Draco makes a breakthrough. Hermione and Tracey have an easily side-tracked discussion. Harry gets into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas.

For the first time in years Narcissa felt nervous.

It was not a feeling she appreciated.

“It will be fine. I’m sure Alianore will like you. She has a soft spot for single mothers. Plus, you’re my sister,” Andy said firmly as she led the way down the small French street.

“What does being your sister have to do with it?”

Andy stopped her purposeful walk and spun to look at Narcissa, raising one elegant eyebrow. “Silly Cissy, haven’t you realized by now my reputation in the literary world? The only currently popular author I have nothing to do with is Gilderoy Lockhart. People trust my judgement. If I recomend you and state that you had the exact same training as me — which you did — then you will be given a fair chance. Now, relax, we’re almost there.”

Narcissa had no ready response to that, so chose to keep quiet as they resumed walking. She’d never really thought much about what Andy did before a few weeks ago, but she supposed that no matter what their parents said, Andromeda Tonks had still been born a Black. And Blacks typically succeeded in their chosen path.

Minus inconvenient Dark Lords and the nasty ripples they caused.

“Oh, there she is,” Andy whispered before breaking out into a wide smile. “Good afternoon, Alianore!”

An elegant woman with hair the color of well-aged red wine looked up from the small book she’d been writing in. A glass of white wine sat in front of her at the small cafe table and there were two empty seats. She set down her muggle pen and stood up as they approached. “Good afternoon, Dromeda. What a pleasure to see you again!”

The two women hugged and kissed each other on the cheeks with all the familiarity of old friends. When they broke apart Alianore turned and looked Narcissa up and down. Narcissa did the same, refusing to let the nervousness fluttering in her stomach show. She’d found this woman’s writing to be utterly enthralling — the perfect escape from her boredom. Editing for her would be a privilege.

“Alianore, may I present my sister Narcissa Black? Narcissa, this is Alianore Roux, one of my oldest clients.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Narcissa said, offering her hand.

Alianore studied her for a moment with light green eyes as cold as ice before she abruptly blinked, a wide smile spreading across her face and making her eyes twinkle. Rather like a certain Headmaster’s eyes, though the color was all wrong. The Frenchwoman took Narcissa’s hand and shook it firmly.

“The pleasure is all mine. I have heard much about you over the years. Is it true you raised your son on your own?”

Narcissa nodded, “Yes, though Draco is now off at Hogwarts, so I find myself with a plethora of free time.”

“Ah, yes, and this is why we are here, is it not? Please, take a seat.”

The three of them took seats and the two sisters placed orders with the muggle waiter before they began to enter into their business discussion.

oXoXoXo

The nights grew ever shorter and Ron complained less and less about the ceiling of the small room he shared with Draco. The first quidditch match of the year came and went, with a narrow victory going to Slytherin. Justin freely admitted that the wizarding sport was quite exciting, but not nearly as posh as polo.

Draco, Ron, and Zach could only stare at Justin in disbelief upon this statement. Quidditch wasn’t supposed to be posh.

It was in the first week of December that either of them actually succeeded with the meditation. Their success was all the more surprising because of how it came about.

“Ugh, this is taking _forever_! How do they do it down there in Africa!?!” Ron complained, tumbling backwards to lie flat on his bed.

Draco opened up his eyes and looked across the dark room at his best friend. He absently scratched the spot between his shoulder blades. “I don’t know. There has to be a trick we’re missing. I can ask Aunt Andy if she’s heard from Oladele over Christmas. Maybe there’s a better translation coming out.”

“Christmas…” Ron said happily. “Thanks again for letting me stay with you. Can’t believe my parents are taking Ginny and running off to see Charlie in Romania for the holidays.”

Draco laid down and reached up, making his back pop as he stretched. “Even if your parents were home you’d likely spend all your free time at Coelum Court. Mum knows that.” He snickered, “I also threatened to stay at Hogwarts if you weren’t allowed to stay with me.”

Ron gasped and propped himself up on his elbow to stare over at Draco, “You didn’t!”

“I did. I even convinced her to let me throw a small Christmas party. I don’t want to go all of break without seeing my friends.”

Draco was half-afraid that if he went too long without seeing Zach, Hannah, Justinn, or even Susan they would all begin to realize that being friends with the son of a confirmed Death Eater was not a good idea.

He also just wanted see his friends in the one place on Earth he knew was completely safe. He wanted his mum to meet them and know he was doing well. He didn’t plan to tell her about what had happened with Barrow and Montague anytime soon. It would only worry her and he was working through it with Uncle Frank and Ron.

“We’re gonna have a blast,” Ron said, flopping back onto his back and staring up at the star-studded ceiling.

Draco smiled and stared up blindly at the ceiling as he pictured all the wonderful things they would be doing in a few weeks. He could already taste Dobby’s food and feel his mum’s arms wrapping around him in a hug. He smiled and closed his eyes; soaking in the warmth that her embrace always gave him. Breathing in deeply he smelled her perfume, so similar to the scent of their garden. To the flowers she said were her true namesake.

The garden sat firmly in his mind as he opened his eyes and stared up at his own namesake. Right next to Ursa Minor sat the nine stars. Idly he reached up and connected the stars with his finger.

He started at Gianfar and moved up the dragon’s long body, circling the head until he came to a stop at Aldhibah. He could clearly see the constellation now. Lines of light connecting each star.

“Draco! You did it!”

Ron’s shout jerked Draco out of his odd, dreamlike state and he blinked. Abruptly realizing that the lines of light were not just in his imagination.

Slowly he sat up and stared at his hand as he whispered, “ _Lumos_.”

Nothing happened.

He looked up at the lines of light and raised his hand, wiping it across the stars as he would wipe off a table. The lines disappeared and he was left staring at the twinkling stars.

“How did you do that?” Ron whispered in awe.

“I — I don’t know. But —” he stopped, thinking over the past few minutes. On how he’d felt so peaceful and relaxed. Almost as if he’d been back at Coelum Court. “But I think we were wrong about meditation. Or what Oladele meant by meditation. My mind wasn’t empty. It was focused. Extremely focused. And only the gestures worked, not the words.”

Ron said nothing, but Draco could practically hear the wheels turning in his friend’s head. Draco laid back down and tried to fall back into the peaceful garden, but now his mind was spinning too much as he fully realized what he had done. A huge grin split his face and he was having trouble controlling his breathing. He’d done magic! Magic without a wand! He had no idea how he had done, or how to do it again, but that didn’t matter right now. He’d figure it out.

oXoXoXo

Hermione snapped her trunk closed and looked around her sleeping area. She didn’t have to worry about leaving anything behind as all of the girls in her year were returning home for the holidays. In fact, Parkinson, Greengrass and Bulstrode had already headed up to the main floor.

“All packed?”

Tracey’s words echoed through their long room and Hermione grimaced. She was still determined to figure out a way around their dormitory’s acoustics. “Yes, you?”

“All done. Do you think Harry has finished packing?”

Hermione frowned in confusion and grabbed her winter cloak before wandering out of her area and over to where Tracey was slipping on her own winter cloak. “What do you mean is Harry finished packing? Isn’t he staying?”

Tracey’s head whipped up, confusion on her delicate features. “Harry’s staying? He never said that. Why would he stay?”

“He never seems to talk about his family, so I didn’t ask. I just saw him sign the list Professor Snape passed around.”

“Well, that’s no good. How is he supposed to come to my party if he’s here at Hogwarts? I mean, why would anyone stay here for the holidays?”

This was the first time Hermione had ever heard of a party. “What party? You haven’t mentioned it before.”

Tracey finished fastening her cloak and turned to check herself in the mirror. “Why, the Selwyn New Year’s Party. My mother is allowing me to host a small gathering this year as part of it. You should be receiving an invitation with a portkey enclosed in the next few days. I wonder if my mother can speak with Professor Snape...hmm…yes, I’ll see if she can get him to give permission for Harry to leave school for an evening.”

Hermione sighed, “Tracey, why couldn’t you have mentioned this party before? I mean, I’m going to Switzerland to go skiing with my parents. We’re not getting back until January. There’s no way I can make it.”

“Nonsense, our portkey invitations work all over Europe. Your parents can go off to an adult party and you come stay with me. If you want I can have my father call them on a telephone and explain things. He’s muggle-born so he’s good at that.”

“Tracey…” Hermione started, rather annoyed at having her argument being completely discarded.

Her blonde friend stopped primping in the mirror and turned around to stare at Hermione with sharp eyes. “No, listen Hermione. You may be the Master of the Library, but I am the Selwyn Heir and truly knowledgeable when it comes to Wizarding Society and Slytherin House. You, as a Slytherin muggle-born, are going to have a hard time making connections. My father had a very hard time. My mother helped him, even before they fell in love, and now I plan to help you. Understand?”

“Tracey, we’re _eleven_. What do connections matter?”

The other girl shrugged, “Honestly? Not much yet. But we need to practice now, because they will later. You’re ambitious. I’m ambitious. Harry’s ambitious. That’s why we’re Slytherins. Ambitious people need connections to fulfill their ambitions. Harry’s in the same boat as me in terms of blood status, but he’s also the Boy-Who-Lived. There are a lot of powerful people out there that will only see him as a pawn or a tool. Many of those same people will see you as disposable.” She stopped and checked her appearance one more time in the mirror. “Also, I’ll see to it that you can look through the Selwyn library. Maybe you’ll find what’s hiding on the third floor.”

Hermione’s rather quick brain turned over Tracey's words, trying to find a solid argument she could use at the moment. But — as Tracey had likely planned — she kept getting distracted and coming back to the promise of library access. They’d already searched the Hogwarts library and had no luck. What might a personal family library hold?

The very idea made her salivate.

“Fine. I’ll discuss it with my parents, but I make no promises. What’s the dress code?”

“As a young witch you can get away with almost any kind of formal dress. Most dress robes take inspiration from muggle formal wear. Though it is usually a few decades out of date. Think you can find something? If not you can borrow one of my dresses.”

Hermione looked at her friend in amused disbelief. Tracey was tiny and petite. There was no way they could share clothes.

“What? One of my parents can temporarily resize one of my dresses. It won’t hold for forever, but it will do for a few hours. Now, let’s go find Harry and say goodbye. I can’t believe I didn’t know he was staying! I wonder what his family is like…”

Hermione followed after Tracey, distracted from thoughts on the holiday season and new libraries as she found herself wondering the exact same thing as Tracey.

oXoXoXo

Harry waved goodbye to Tracey and Hermione before heading on up the stairs to the library. He knew it was the holiday and his homework could wait, but he couldn’t think of anything else to do. It’s not like he was friends with anyone else in Slytherin House.

It was a few hours later that the sound of whispered voices broke through the quiet stillness of the library. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but upon looking up could see matching pairs of red hair wandering down a nearby aisle. Obviously searching for something.

Harry couldn’t stop the grin from creeping across his face at the sight of the Weasley twins. When he’d realized Tracey and Hermione were leaving for the holidays he’d first thought of approaching Ron and Draco, but had heard they were also going home. He’d assumed all of the Weasleys had left, but obviously not.

Hadn’t they offered something about mischief on the Hogwarts Express?

Silently closing the book he’d been looking up facts in he packed up his materials and stood up Moving as quietly as he could — a skill learned after a decade at the Dursleys — he crept up behind the twins.

“Anything look useful?”

“No, nothing. I bet Pince put all the books we could use in the Restricted Section.”

“Likely. Check the Map, Fred. Maybe we can sneak over. Is she anywhere close?”

Fred looked around and Harry ducked behind a bookcase, feeling very curious now. Once sure they were alone Fred pulled a large, square, very worn piece of parchment out. There was nothing on it, but, as Harry watched George pulled out his wand and touched the parchment in Fred’s hand as he said, “ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.”

Harry leaned around the corner, trying not to draw attention while still seeing what was on the parchment. Because obviously something had appeared. He’d seen spirals of black ink bloom under the tip of the wand.

“We see you, Harry Potter.”

Harry gasped as he realized the twins were still staring down at the parchment. “What—?”

Fred sighed and looked up, “You know, you really shouldn’t snoop on others.”

George nodded solemnly, “You really shouldn’t. It will get you in trouble one day.”

A smirk tilted up Harry’s lips and he shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “I’m a Slytherin. Aren’t we supposed to snoop?”

The twins shared a look before sighing in unison, “You have a point.”

“Of course I do. Now, what is that?” Harry pointed at the parchment.

George’s eyes narrowed, “None of your business.”

Fred tried to stuff the parchment back in his pocket, but Harry was faster. Quick as a snake he reached out and grabbed the parchment, gasping as he saw what it was.

“It’s a map…” wonder filled his voice.

“That was very rude, Potter,” George said, something rather dangerous in his voice.

“Extremely rude.” Fred’s voice was even scarier than George’s.

Harry had the rather sudden feeling that he’d made a very, very grave error. He took a quick step back and then, turning he raced through the towering bookshelves as fast as he could. He tore past the front desk before Madam Pince could say a word and out into the hallway. His old trainers smacked against the stone floor and he found himself wondering just why he was doing this. He wasn’t a thief. He wasn’t Dudley.

He skidded to a halt and turned around. There was no sign of the twins, but he knew they couldn’t be far. Curious, he looked down at the map in his hands. At the top in great, curly green words it said:

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_

THE MARAUDER’S MAP

He could only gap as he looked over the map. Not only did it show a map of the castle, but he could clearly see a little dot labeled with his name. A small step to the side showed the dot move with him.

This was brilliant.

He was so busy staring at every inch of the map that he didn’t notice the two dots rapidly approaching him until they were upon him.

“Give it back or we’ll make your life a living hell,” one of the twins hissed. Harry thought it was Fred, but he wasn’t sure.

Both twins had their wands out and they did not look at all happy. Harry looked back down at the map and then back up at the glaring twins. “Did you two make this? It’s really quite brilliant.” He held up the map, offering it back to them.

They both stared at him suspiciously. He waved the map at them, “Aren’t you going to take it back? Or did you think I planned to keep it?”

George reached out and snatched the map out of Harry’s hand. Then, tapping it with his wand he said, “ _Mischief Managed_.”

“What happens if you don’t know the right words to say?” Harry asked, curious.

“It insults you,” Fred said.

“Can I see?”

They looked at him once more with suspicion and he smiled as innocently as he could. “I promise I won’t take it. I really just want to see.”

“Where are your little friends?” George asked, looking around suspiciously, as if Hermione and Tracey were hiding in the shadows. “Those two girls.”

“They went home to their families. I’m all by myself. So, I can see it insult me? I’ve never seen an inanimate object react directly to someone.”

“You’re by yourself?” Fred asked.

Harry nodded.

“Fine, take out your wand, touch it to the map, then say your name and ask for it to reveal its secrets,” Fred said, while George watched silently.

Pulling his wand out of his pocket Harry took a step forward and laid it on the parchment. “I, Harry James Potter, ask you to please reveal your secrets.”

George snorted, “Why did you say please?”

But Harry and Fred ignored him, both of them staring — utterly dumbstruck — at the words that appeared as if written by an invisible hand.

“Mr. Padfoot presents his compliments to Mr. Potter, and asks him to kindly explain just who mated with Mr. Prongs to create such a polite son.”

“Son?” Fred gasped. George leaned over to look down at the parchment before staring up at Harry in surprise.

More words appeared. “Mr. Moony agrees with Mr. Padfoot, and would like to add that he is surprised that Mr. Prongs managed to produce any children at all.”

His heart pounding, Harry tapped the map once more with his wand. “Um, my mother was Lily. Can — Can I guess that Mr. Prongs is James Potter?”

“Mr. Prongs would like to not so politely say ‘I told you so!’ to Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Moony.”

“Mr. Wormtail can humbly confirm that Mr. Prongs is sometimes known as James Potter.”

The words slowly faded from the map and the three boys stood there, staring in shock at the now blank piece of parchment. It was Fred who recovered first.

“Well then, George. Do you think what I think?”

“Indeed I do, Fred. Indeed I do.”

Harry looked up at them in confusion, his brain a mess of thoughts. “What?”

The grinned down at him.

“Why, dear Harry, I do believe this is the beginning of a glorious friendship.”

“Oh, yes, most certainly. And we’ll even forgive you for stealing the Map. You are, after all, the Heir of Prongs.”

And, in a complete daze, Harry found twin arms slung over his shoulders as they led him down the hallway — eagerly discussing what sorts of mischief they could get into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a busy chapter. Next up - Christmas! Just in time for Halloween, lol.
> 
> Hope ya'll had a lovely week!


	14. Shifts in Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione runs away from gossip. Draco thinks on the friends he's made so far at Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you, as always, to my three amazing betas.

“Did you see Clearwater with that Weasley boy? I thought her family had better taste,” Mandy Brocklehurst said rather snidely.

“I’m sure they were only discussing prefect matters,” Su Li protested.

Tracey snorted, “He reached up and pushed a strand of hair off her face.”

Hermione fought the urge to groan and tried to bury herself in her book. She knew Tracey got along with several of the Ravenclaw girls, but she’d assumed they would all discuss something intellectual. Merlin had she been wrong. All they had done since sitting down was gossip about many of the older students.

“Maybe it’s just one-sided. Who could blame a Weasley for liking her?  Clearwater is a shoe-in for Head Girl in two years. She’s utterly perfect.” The last sentence was said in such a breathy manner that Hermione had to shoot Su Li a rather skeptical look. Maybe this was moving beyond pure gossip. She’d never met anyone that spoke that way about the same gender, though her parents had educated her on the topic. It would be interesting to learn how it worked in the magical world.

“Su!” Padma Patil gasped.

“What? I can’t have a role model?”

“You don’t talk about role models like that! Least that’s what my mother says,” Mandy said snidely, before turning the conversation to what she thought her parents would give her for Christmas.

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back down at her book. She’d only read a single sentence before the compartment door opened to reveal Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. The ensuing conversation grew extremely loud and contained too much squealing for Hermione’s comfort. Looking over, she could see Tracey acting just as flighty and excited as the other girls. It had to be an act, but Hermione was fairly sure it was an act that Tracey loved doing.

But Hermione did not.

Closing her book she stood up and said, “I’ll be back in a bit.” She proceeded to slip out of the compartment before anyone could reply.

She breathed a sizable sigh of relief as the door slid shut and cut off the talkative girls. If this was how the Selwyn New Year’s Party was going to be then not even the promise of access to the Selwyn library could get her to go. She’d hated gossip and small talk back in primary school. It had always been torture when her parents brought her along to family-friendly Christmas parties and the like.

Why couldn’t people just talk about real things?

That thought ran through her mind as she walked along the corridor and peeked in compartment windows. Every room was filled with older students she didn’t recognize. It wasn’t until she was almost to the end of the train that she found anyone she recognized.

She grinned at the sight of Neville and slid the door open. He didn’t seem like the type to engage in mindless gossip.

“Morning, Neville! Can I sit here for a bit?” She directed the question to him, rather than the five Hufflepuffs. She knew him best, after all.

He turned pink and looked over at the others. She did the same, and so just caught Ron give a nod of approval. Was he the leader of this little group?

“Sure. Where are Davis and Harry?” Neville asked as he scooted over so she could sit.

“Harry stayed at Hogwarts and Tracey is catching up with some of her other friends.” She pulled the door shut and took a seat. “Thought I’d come see how you are.”

Neville smiled happily, “I’m fine. We were just talking about our plans for the holidays. What’re you up to?”

She rested her book on her lap. “I’m going skiing in Switzerland with my parents.”

“Oh, where will you be going?” asked the dark-haired, aristocratic-looking boy.

“We’re going to Zematt. Do you know the town?”

He nodded eagerly, “Oh yes, we went there last year. Will you be staying at the Resort Hotel Alex? The spa there was lovely.”

She shook her head, “No, I believe we’re at the Hotel Albana Real. One of my father’s patients recommended them.”

“Patients? Are your parents doctors?” the boy asked.

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She’d pegged this boy as a pureblood, what with the aristocratic attitude. But maybe she was wrong. After all, the muggle world had its own share of nobility and gentry. “No, they’re dentists. Am I right in assuming that you’re also muggle-born?”

“Yes, Justin is our token muggle-born. Just like Hannah is our token half-blood,” the blond boy said.

The blonde girl, Hannah, rolled her eyes, “Shush, Zach. I know for a fact no pureblood in this room is as pure as their family likes to say. For example, your maternal great-grandmother was a half-blood.”

Hermione took an instant liking to this girl.

“Maybe we should do introductions? I don’t think Hermione knows any of you,” Draco said quietly, stopping the potential argument brewing between the two blonds.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, Draco,” Ron exclaimed. “I keep forgetting only Neville has classes with her. Hermione Granger, this is Zacharias Smith.” He gestured to the blond-haired boy. “The most pompous Hufflepuff you’ll ever meet. But,” he pushed on as Zacharias opened his mouth to protest, “he’s come a long way and is an alright chap. And over here we have Hannah Abbot.” He gave the blonde-girl a half bow. “She knows all of our family genealogy better than we do. She also plays a mean game of exploding snap. Your fellow muggle-born here,” he gestured to the black-haired boy, “is Justin Finch-Fletchley. For some reason, he thinks polo — whatever that is — is better than quidditch. I think he may have fallen off a horse as a child and hit his head. Nothing is better than quidditch.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at that. She didn’t quite understand what was so enthralling about quidditch. But then, she’d never understood why her primary school classmates had liked football so much either. Though she did have to admit that being in the crowd at a live game was quite different from watching a game on the telly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” she said politely.

“What’s it like being the only muggle-born in Slytherin?” Hannah asked rather frankly.

Hermione shrugged, “I went to a primary school where everyone knew odd things happened around me. They avoided me, just like most Slytherins do. It’s not lonesome though, I’ve got Harry and Tracey.”

The others nodded and began to talk about their holiday plans. Hermione listened for a bit before opening her book to read. For some reason, it was much easier to tune out the Hufflepuffs and Neville than it had been Tracey and the Ravenclaws.

After a bit, she began to feel as if someone was staring at her. Looking up, she realized that Draco — who sat directly across from her, with his own book out, but ignored it — was watching her.

She frowned, “What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re here and not with Davis. Well, and also why Harry is at Hogwarts?.”

“Tracey was talking with people I don’t know, well, about people I don’t know at all. When I left, they were gossiping about the oldest Weasley and a Ravenclaw named Clearwater. Debating if they’re dating or not.”

“They’re definitely dating,” Draco said quietly.

She raised her eyebrows at that, “How do you know?”

He flushed, “I, uh, saw them together.”

“Oh.”

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “And what about Harry?”

She shrugged, “I’m not sure. He doesn’t talk much about his family. Didn’t even tell us he was staying. I knew only because I saw him sign up. Honestly, I’m a bit worried about him. Everyone from our year left to go home.”

“He showed up at the Hogwarts Express in September by himself. Mrs. Weasley had to show him how to get on the platform. And when he walked onto the platform…” Draco trailed off for a moment, an almost mystical expression on his face.

“You saw him walk onto the platform?”

Draco nodded, eyes looking off into a memory only he could see, “I was watching for the Weasleys. Harry’s clothes were muggle and too big on him. And the way he looked at the world...as if it was, well, _magical_.”

Hermione nodded. She’d been in Harry’s dormitory room a few times and seen what he called pyjamas. They weren’t clothes anyone would ever spend money on. Maybe she should ask Harry about his family sometime; perhaps when Tracey wasn’t around. She liked the other girl a lot, but she was rather oblivious about many things.

Speaking of Tracey…

The compartment door slid open to reveal her blonde friend.

“Oh, there you are Hermione. I was beginning to wonder. Come along now. We’re almost to London, and I’m sure you want to change clothes since you have to walk through the muggle station.” Tracey didn’t even look at the others in the compartment.

“You’re not her boss, you know,” Ron snapped. His face was etched into a deep frown as he stared at the blonde Slytherin.

Tracey sniffed, “Let’s go, Hermione. I think there’s a bad draft in here.”

Hermione ground her teeth. “Tracey, be nice.”

Tracey’s eyes narrowed, and she surveyed the room, eyes lingering for a moment on Ron as she sniffed disdainfully before once more focusing on Hermione. “I _am_ being nice.”

Ron stood up at that, his hands balled into fists. But just as quickly Draco had leapt to his feet yanked Ron back into his seat.

Neville nervously cleared his throat and whispered, “Hermione, maybe it’s best if you go…”

Hermione took a deep breath through her nose, closed her eyes for a moment, then released the air in her lungs slowly before standing up with all the grace she could muster.

“Tracey, you are _not_ being nice.” She held up a hand to stop her friend’s retort, “ _But_ , you’re also right, and I need to come change.” She turned and addressed the Hufflepuffs and Neville. “Thank you for letting me sit with you. I hope you have a lovely Christmas and I’ll see you later.”

Stalking out of the compartment she grabbed Tracey as she went, yanking the smaller girl along behind her. When they reached the small public space by the water closet between two of the train cars, she whirled around and stared down at her friend.

“Listen up, Tracey. You may know more about the magical world than I do, but that does NOT give you leave to order me around. Understand?” She paused and glared at the girl, who stared back angrily before giving a sharp, frustrated nod. “Also, I can be friends with whomever I please, do you understand? You may have made an enemy of Ron Weasley, but I haven’t. Neville is my friend, just as you are. Do _not_ force me to chose between the two of you, understand? You and I became friends because we both care about Harry. And while I like having a female friend I will not sacrifice my other friendships because you’re holding a grudge. Not even the promise of your family library will change my mind on this. Got it?”

Tracey glared at Hermione and pursed her lips; staring for a few minutes before giving a slow nod. “Fine. I’ll avoid Weasley and his friends. I won’t make any comments about them. I’ll even bite my tongue if we’re forced by circumstances to be together. But don’t expect me to apologize to him for being myself and worrying about Harry. That’s beyond my ability. Also, if Weasley starts something then anything is fair game. Got it?”

Hermione thought if over for a moment, then nodded and held out her hand to shake. “So we’re in agreement?”

Tracey shook her hand, “We are.”

Hermione plastered a smile on her face. “Alright then. Let’s head back to the compartment. I really do need to change.”

oXoXoXo

Draco stared at the little stack of invitations on his personal writing desk. His mother had prepared them for him, along with an enclosed portkey, but he’d wanted to sign and address them all himself. It just gave him such a thrill to know he was inviting _friends_! As in, multiple people! That weren’t related to him or Weasleys.

He wasn’t inviting many personally — just Justin, Zach, Hannah, Neville, and Susan. Dora would be coming as well, but his mum was doing her invite.

Reverently, he picked up the five envelopes and flipped through them. Half wondering if he should send any more. He’d thought he might send one to Harry, but knowing that he stayed at Hogwarts…

Well, Draco didn’t think Professor Dumbledore would like Harry Potter getting a private portkey that took him to the son of a Death Eater’s house.

No, he’d just send a small card and gift with the regular Christmas packages.

A knock sounded at the door, and Draco looked up. “Come in!”

Ron pushed open the door. He was grinning and dressed for the outdoors.

“All done with the invitations? It’s perfect flying weather. Not a cloud in sight.”

Draco looked down at the envelopes in his hand and then took a deep breath before standing up. “Yes, all five of them are done. Can you take them to my mum while I get changed? I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Ron frowned, “Only five?”

“Justin, Hannah, Susan, Zach, and Neville.”

“What about Harry and Hermione? You seem to get along with them as well.”

Draco looked at him in confusion. “Harry is at Hogwarts, so I don’t think he’s allowed to leave. And I’m not friends with Hermione.”

Now Ron looked confused, “Really? But you were speaking to her so easily on the train.”

That made Draco stop. Had he been speaking to her easily? But, no, he knew he’d felt nervous. He’d had to plan every sentence before he spoke — taking deep breaths and calming his nerves before every sentence.

He shook his head, “I guess I’m getting better — because I was _not_ comfortable. But she isn’t bad. I guess it was like how I talked with our housemates at first.”

“Okay, so no invitation for her? I know she and Neville are close.”

That made Draco look back at the few leftover invites and portkeys on his desk. “Do you think Neville will like it if she comes?”

Ron shrugged, “Maybe. But don’t worry about him. What do you want?”

He was about to say no invite when a small twinge of disappointment went through him. Which was funny as he hadn’t even considered inviting her a moment ago. Would she even come if he sent an invite? Wasn’t she out of the country? Would it be fair to send her one but not send one to Harry?

He shook his head, “Maybe next year.”

“Okay, mate.” Ron took the invitations and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the kitchen in a few minutes then.”

The door shut with a small click and Draco quickly changed clothes. The realization that in mere minutes he would be flying over the garden he loved so much with his best friend stuck a smile on his face that completely chased away any thoughts of the two Slytherins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of ya'll have a safe Halloween if you celebrate it!


	15. Holiday Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry speaks with Snape. Draco and Ron continue to work on wandless magic. Narcissa has a little surprise for Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to CatDionysus, Ladybear92 and JuliS for being super supportive the last couple of weeks and then beta reading for me. You three ladies are the best!

A few days into the break Harry was walking through the dungeons, on his way to visit Hagrid, when Professor Snape stopped him.

“Mr. Potter, I would like a word with you.”

The potions professor looked as dour as he did during the school year. Quite at odds with the gloomily festive garlands strung up on the dungeon’s normally bare walls.

“Sir?”

“Follow me.”

Harry silently followed his head of house. He hadn’t done anything wrong lately so he really had to wonder why the man wanted to speak with him. Snape had been practically ignoring Harry since the flying lesson incident. And that, in Harry’s book, was much better than the hostility he had faced before. He’d said as much to Mrs. Malfoy in his last letter to her. She had agreed with him.

They entered Professor Snape’s office and Harry took the seat he was directed to. This time he was not seated in front of the desk. Rather, he was at a small round table. Snape took the seat across from him.

“Mr. Potter, I would like to discuss this holiday with you. Every other Slytherin, with the exception of a handful of studious fifth and seventh years, has returned to their families for the break. Can you explain why you have not?”

Snape’s black eyes sharply pierced Harry and he looked down, uncomfortable. “I — I didn’t want to sir.”

“Explain,”

“Well — um — you see—”

“Look at me when you speak. It’s polite.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry looked up, forcing himself to meet Snape’s hard gaze. “You — uh — see, my family, they — uh — asked me to stay here. That’s all.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. But it was easier to say. Especially with the way they had left him standing at King’s Cross — laughing about Platform 9¾.

Snape’s eyes somehow grew even harder. “Why did you not ask to visit with one of your friends? Miss Granger and Miss Davis both care a great deal about you.”

Harry shrugged. How could he explain that he didn’t want to go into details with his friends about his aunt and uncle? That was his problem. Not theirs.

Professor Snape’s eyes softened just a bit. If Harry hadn’t been staring at them he didn’t think he would have noticed.

“Well, lucky for you, Mr. Potter, your friends care more for you than you have faith in them. Miss Davis’ mother, the Lady Selwyn, has requested permission for you to come to her house for a party on New Year’s Eve. The Headmaster and I have given our approval.” He pulled an envelope out of his robes and held it out to Harry. “Inside you will find a timed portkey and a formal invitation. You also have permission to stay the night at the Selwyn-Davis house. I will arrive at noon on the first to escort you back to school. Would you like to go?”

Harry nodded, speechless.

“Then take the letter and be on your way.”

Harry took the envelope; clutching it tightly. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. Now go, I have work to do.”

Harry hurried out of the room, still unbelieving. He knew Tracey was his friend, but to have her mother go out of her way just so Harry could go to a party?

He couldn’t believe it.

oXoXoXo

Narcissa stepped through the fire and into her sister’s cozy little kitchen. The air was heavy with the scents of vanilla and cinnamon. Courtesy of the racks of biscuits cooling on every available flat surface.

She still found it odd that her sister baked biscuits for all of her clients rather than buying tins of them. But then, Narcissa wasn’t one to talk. She’d helped Dobby turn bushels of apples from Coelum Court’s orchards into spiced cider. She was even sending a bottle to each of the four writers she currently worked with.

Still, helping the house elf was not the same as doing it all yourself.

“Cissy, is that you?” Andy’s voice came drifting through the spice-laden air.

“Yes, dear. Stay where you are. If I stay in this kitchen I may just die of a sweetness overdose.”

Andy’s laughter at that rang through the small house as Narcissa joined her in the sitting room. There, Andy was on her sofa, flipping through a drab little book.

Narcissa took a seat beside her and glanced down at the book. “What is it?”

Andy snapped it closed and laid it on a nearby table. “Oh, just a horribly translated book I found off Diagon Alley. In that used bookstore on Prism Lane. I’m trying to contact the author. See if I can volunteer my services.”

“If you get any more clients,” Narcissa said with a smile, “you’ll have to buy a bigger house just to bake all the holiday biscuits.”

Andy gave a low chuckle, “Perhaps. Now, what brings you here today? Are Draco and Ron enjoying their break?”

“They’re having a grand time. All day they go flying and all evening they play games inside. I don’t think either of them has cracked a single book open.”

“Well, time enough for that after Christmas. Have they figured out your surprise for the party on Christmas Eve? I still don’t quite know how you managed it.”

Narcissa gave her older sister a smirk, “Of course they haven’t. They’re too Hufflepuff to expect a thing.”

oXoXoXo

“Your mum has a secret,” Ron stated as soon as the two of them were out of sight of the house.

“Of course she does. Mum always has secrets around Christmas. But I’ve already checked all her normal hiding places, so it’s not a physical gift.” Draco set his broom aside and pulled out the charmed blanket to spread across the ground.

“Must be about the party then. Right? She still being vague on details?” Ron joined him on the blanket.

“Yes, but Dobby isn’t. He’s told me all the intricate details. So I think it’s a special guest or an announcement of some sort.” He settled into a comfortable cross-legged position and rested his hands on his knees. “Now, what spell should we try today?”

Ron pulled two glass jars out of the bag slung over his shoulder. “Let’s try that blue fire — the stuff we saw Hermione put in a jar out in the courtyard at Hogwarts. It’s similar to light and you’ve managed light just fine.”

“What about you? You’re still struggling with light.”

“Yes, but maybe fire will agree with me more. I am a redhead, after all,” Ron said with a snicker.

Draco chuckled, “Alright. Do you know the spell for the fire? Because I don’t.”

Ron shook his head, “No, but I’m beginning to think we don’t need it. I’ve been thinking this over and our spells are based in latin, right? They were all crafted to use with wands. I don’t know what language they use at that school in Africa, but I doubt the spells are in latin. If they even do maybe the gestures ARE the spell words. You know, like sign language?”

Draco turned that idea over in his head. Honestly, he’d begun to wonder the same thing. His first success with the wandless magic had been without words. And thinking or saying _lumos_ had never helped either of them make light. Ron was right, the language thing did make sense. Maybe he should go buy a book on sign language? It might give them something to start with as the Oladele book didn’t contain any images.

“Alright, let’s give it a try. Ready?”

“Yes.”

Both boys closed their eyes and got to work.

oXoXoXo

Draco checked his appearance in the mirror for what must have been the dozenth time. He just couldn’t help himself. The first time he’d had all of the Weasleys over for a party he’d been beside himself.

This was so much worse.

A loud knock sounded at the door, drawing his gaze away from the cut of his robes.

“Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Professor Sprout.

Draco’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “P-P-Professor?”

The person grinned, “Wotcher, Draco!” Her frizzy gray hair melted into smooth Hufflepuff yellow locks as her features melted into ones he was much more comfortable with.

The tension in his shoulders slipped away and he laughed as he ran across the room to embrace his cousin. Heedless of the wrinkles he was gaining in his dress robes.

She hugged him tightly and he wallowed in the peace it brought him. When she pulled back she looked him up and down quizzically.

“I don’t think you grew an inch since I last saw you. Guess I’ll just have to make your holiday care packages even bigger.”

He snickered and neatened his robes. “You do that and I’ll grow out, not up.”

“With the way you fly? I don’t think so. Plus, I hear from Cedric that you’re very generous with sweets. Not that I’m condemning that. It is the Hufflepuff way, of course.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Are there guests arriving already downstairs? Or is it just you?”

“My parents and Uncle Frank are here, but that’s it. I was sent up to collect you and Ron. Aunt Cissy wants you both in the receiving line.”

Draco’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “There’s a receiving line? I thought there were only a few dozen people coming!” That’s what Dobby had told him at least. Just his family, his Hogwarts friends, and his mother’s new author clients. Didn’t she only have four?

“Who told you that? I thought Aunt Cissy was keeping you in the dark about the party?” Dora asked in surprise.

“Dobby.”

Dora laughed, “Oh, Aunt Cissy must have told him to bend the truth. Wonder how she managed that as she’s no longer a Malfoy. Huh. Well, that’s Aunt Cissy for you. As for the party, I think there’s over a hundred people. Besides your Hogwarts friends and their families most of them are from out of the country. Some of my mum’s clients and their families. Not to mention a few of my dad’s coworkers and business associates. The official invitations have this listed as ‘The Black Holiday Gala’. Still, I hear most of the British people that got one turned it down. But don’t worry, they’ll learn.” A rather scary glint appeared in Dora’s eyes. “Oh, yes, they’ll learn.”

Draco blinked in surprise, trying to soak this in as his heart began to pound in his chest. How had a small gathering with his friends turned into this? Just what was his mother doing? How in the world could he handle a receiving line?

His cousin reached out and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry Draco. Ron and I will be beside you through the entire night, alright? Also, Aunt Cissy has a special room set aside for just you and your friends. You don’t have to be at the main party.”

He took comfort from the warm hand on his shoulder and the words she spoke, but he couldn’t help but be nervous about the night. Instinctively his hand went down to make sure his wand was secure. He really, really needed to learn wandless magic faster.

oXoXoXo

Narcissa had a genuine smile on her face as she walked through her humble home. Not that it looked as humble today as it usually appeared. Still, it was nothing compared to Malfoy Manor or Tenebrae Abbey in terms of grandeur. Not that this was a problem for Narcissa. She’d poured hours of magic into the house and grounds after it had sat empty for generations. Coelum Court was hers and hers alone. And, with the assistance of Ted and a few of his co-workers she’d managed to expand the ground floor so as to give ample room for dancing and mingling.

“This is a lovely party,” Alianore Roux’s sweet, melodic voice danced through the air as she slipped an arm through Narcissa’s. Joining her on her wander.

“Thank you, but I have you to thank for the idea. When you offered to have Draco meet—”

Alianore waved her hand in dismissal, “That was nothing. Besides, we’ll have to see if they actually show. The had a previous engagement this evening, but I was promised they’d do their best to come.”

Narcissa smiled and nodded politely to one of Andy’s Russian clients deep in discussion with a Brazilian magical architect. She’d never attended such an international event before — it was quite invigorating. “Whether they show or not is of no matter now. Just the inspiration for this is gift enough. I want Draco to experience the things that were denied to him.”

The French woman returned her smile. “You’re a good mother, Narcissa. I know I only met him for a moment, but I could see you’ve done a wonderful job with him.”

“She had help, you know,” Andy said, walking up to them with a dark-haired man of Asian descent. He must have come late as Narcissa didn’t think she’d seen him in the receiving line.

Narcissa arched an eyebrow at her older sister. “Are you implying that you helped raise, Draco?”

“Who? Me?” Andy laid a hand on her chest, “I would never claim that. I was speaking of Dobby, of course.”

“Dobby?” Alianore asked.

“Our house elf. And, yes, my _dear_ sister is correct. He’s been invaluable in raising my son. Now, enough family talk.” Narcissa turned her eyes to the gentleman. “I don’t believe I’ve met your companion.”

“Oh, yes, may I present Mamoru Tachiki? He’s an architect from Japan and has worked with my husband on a number of projects. Mamoru, may I present my sister, Narcissa Black, and Alianore Roux, one of my oldest clients.”

Mr. Tachiki gave a formal bow, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Black, Ms. Roux.”

“Likewise,” Alianore said with her own curtsey.

“Welcome to my home, Mr. Tachiki,” Narcissa said with her own curtsey.

A loud commotion sounded in the entrance hall, drawing everyone’s eyes. Narcissa frowned in annoyance as she quickly excused herself and moved towards the noise. Before she had even taken two steps she found Alianore’s arm once more entwined with her own.

“Don’t frown so, Narcissa. I do believe your son’s surprise has arrived.”

oXoXoXo

Draco was three moves away from locking Neville in checkmate when the room next door erupted into noise. He jumped to his feet, his knees hitting the table as he went; sending the pieces flying to the floor.

“Are you alright, Draco?” Neville asked, ignoring the pieces now casting medieval slurs at them from the floor.

He nodded, taking deep breaths and reaching down to make sure his wand was still firmly in his holster. The receiving line hadn’t been too bad. He’d only actually greeted his friends and their families. Everyone else had skipped over him and Ron, which had been a relief. It had also been manageable as there was never more than a handful of unknown people around him at a time. Then Uncle Frank, Dora, and Ron had escorted him to the ‘Playroom’ as Dora had jokingly dubbed it.

There he’d had a marvelous time with his friends and the few people that Dora had invited to the party. He’d only known Cedric, but the others were nice enough.

Still, he couldn’t forget about the hundred unknown people currently walking through his home.

The door to the ‘Playroom’ swung open a bit and Uncle Frank poked his head in. “You alright, Draco?”

He nodded.

Uncle Frank smiled, “Good, then do you think you’re ready for a surprise? There are a few people that are very eager to meet you.”

Draco’s hands clenched into fists and he fought to control his breathing. Some people wanted to meet him? This was his surprise? What was going on? Just what was his mother doing?

The rustle of fabric sounded in his ears and he looked around to see his friends all standing as well, their games forgotten as they moved to stand around him.

He could do this.

His mother had worked hard to make this party a success. She wanted to give him a surprise. His friends were around him and his wand was on his hip.

He could do this.

“Yes.”

“Brilliant!” Uncle Frank said happily. “Dora, you got this?”

“Sure thing, Uncle Frank!” Dora took up a place by the door, her hair becoming shocking hot pink. “Ladies and gentlemen! Witches and wizards! I would like to present, all the way from France, the QUIBERON QUAFFLEPUNCHERS!”

She roared the last words and the door swung open widely as seven figures in shocking hot pink robes strode in. Zackarie Roux — Keeper and Team Captain — right in the forefront.

“It es a pleasure to meet you!” Roux said with an elegant bow. The rest of the team followed his example, their pink robes fluttering and blinding everyone that stared at them for too long.

Later, Draco would state that it was pure surprise that overcame his fear and distrust of magical strangers. For what else could explain him stepping forward boldly and saying, “Welcome to Coelum Court!” before greeting each team member individually with a big grin on his face?

Narcissa stood by the door, tears in her eyes as she watched her son smile broader than he ever had in public. She’d known it was a risk to do this, but she’d had hope.

“This was a good surprise,” Frank whispered in her ear.

She smiled through her tears as she nodded in agreement. It was a very good surprise. Maybe she’d give Alianore a few extra bottles of spiced cider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for not posting on the last two Saturdays. Real life reasons, but I'm back now and don't plan to miss anymore Saturdays.  I hope ya'll are having a good November and that everyone is staying safe as we approach the holiday season.


	16. Cleverness is not Cunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets Weasley-napped. Hermione gets some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Julist and Ladybear92 for giving this a quick read through before I posted. Especially since I only gave them about 24 hours...

“Happy Christmas, Harry!”

The unexpected words bounced so loudly through the dorm room that Harry jumped a foot in the air before promptly falling off of his bed. When he untangled himself from the blankets and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand he found himself being stared down at by a matching set of grins.

He blinked in confusion, “What — what are you doing here?”

George chuckled, “Why, little Heir of Prongs, you should know that no place is off limits to the holders of the Marauder's Map!”

“Indeed. All we had to do was approach the secret opening and the map revealed the current password to us! Bloody brilliant!” Fred helped Harry clamber to his feet as he spoke.

“Yeah, dunno why we never tried before now,” George added. “Now, where’s your robe? You can’t traipse through the halls of Hogwarts in those worn-out pajamas.”

Harry’s protests went unheeded as Fred shoved all of his packages into a bag. George busied himself with searching through Harry’s wardrobe and trunk until he pulled out a worn and rather threadbare house robe. He barely had a chance to squeak out a few more protests as they hustled him through the deserted Slytherin Common Room, up numerous flights of stairs, and in front of a portrait of a fat lady.

“Frankincense,” George said to the portrait.

She swung open to reveal a cozy room bedecked in red and gold.

“Welcome,” started George.

“To Gryffindor Tower!” finished Fred.

“It’s marvelous,” Harry whispered in awe. He’d thought the Slytherin Dungeon to be a magical place; with its elegant decor and window to the lake. But it didn’t have the cozy feeling of “Home” that Gryffindor Tower had.

He had to wonder what it would have been like to be a Gryffindor, rather than a Slytherin. The Hat had considered it, after all.

“Take a seat, we’ll be right back with Percy and our presents,” Fred said before the two rushed off.

Harry watched as they disappeared up a staircase before looking once more around the round room. For a moment he considered following them; curious to see what the dorm rooms looked like — if they were as oddly laid out as his room down in Slytherin. But then a log fell in the fire and made him shiver. He hadn’t realized just how cold his pyjamas and robe were before the long trek through the castle.

He grabbed his bag of gifts and moved to sit in a squashy armchair right by the fire. He was well-settled and beginning to open a present from Tracey when the twins returned, dragging a protesting older brother behind them. Harry assumed this was Percy, but he’d never met the boy.

Percy’s eyes widened before narrowing in what looked remarkably like suspicion when he saw Harry.

“Why is Potter here? Isn’t he a Slytherin?”

Why was it unsurprising that people recognized him on sight?

“They kidnapped me. Stole me right from my bed and dragged me up here,” Harry answered before the twins could.

George pouted, “You make it sound like a bad thing…”

“He was alone Percy! And no one should be alone for Christmas! We couldn’t let him open presents by himself!” Fred added.

Percy snorted and yanked his arms out of the twins’ grasp. “Typical. Let’s get this over with then. I’ll escort Potter to his common room afterwards.”

Harry sighed and looked down at the bag with his gifts. He was not looking forward to trekking back through the icy halls again.

The Gryffindor boys opened their own presents while Harry turned his attention back to Tracey’s. She’d sent him a fur-lined winter cloak with a clasp in the shape of a silver snake. When he opened Hermione’s gift he had to wonder if the two of them had collaborated. While the hat and scarf were definitely muggle in origin, they were of finely knitted emerald green wool. Finer than anything he’d ever owned before. He really had to wonder if the gifts Adrian had helped him owl order for the girls were good enough. Did books and candy measure up well when compared to such elegant clothes? He just wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like he’d ever engaged in gift giving before. He hadn’t even expected gifts until Adrian asked him if he needed help ordering something for the girls.

It still seemed odd that they would waste money on him.

There was a small gift from the Dursely’s and he opened it with some trepidation.

He grimaced in disgust as he tossed the bent piece of metal on top of the torn wrapping paper.

Why did they even bother?

He opened Hagrid’s gift — a roughly cut wooden flute — as the twins forced a sweater on a protesting Percy. He thought that was it for his gifts, but a last glance in the bag revealed a small squashy package. Frowning, he lifted it out and opened the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It_

_is time it was returned to you._

_Use it well._

_A Very Merry Christmas to you_

The letter was unsigned, but Harry didn’t ponder on that for long.  After the map, the idea of holding something else his father had once owned made his heart race. Eagerly he ripped open the paper and pulled out a long, silvery fabric. It was so large that he had to stand up to look at it properly.

“What’s that, Harry?” Fred asked, coming over to see closer.

George was currently digging into a box of homemade fudge as Percy looked through a book he had just unwrapped. Neither of them paid attention as Fred studied the gift with Harry.

“I think it’s a cloak. The note said it was my father’s”

Fred’s eyes widened, “This was  _Prongs’_?”

“Yes, I think it’s clothing.  Let me try it on,” Harry took a step back and swung the cloak around himself.

Fred gasped loud enough to draw George and Percy’s attention.

“ _That’s an invisibility cloak!_ ” Percy exclaimed. “Who gave that to you?”

Harry looked down and felt distinctly unnerved at the sight — or lack thereof — of his body. An invisibility cloak? His father had had an invisibility cloak? And it had been in someone else’s possession? Who? Why? Could the sender be one of the friends Mrs. Malfoy had told him about?

“Wicked!” The twins said as one, drawing Harry out of his thoughts.

“Just think of all the pranks you could pull!” George said, leaving his box of fudge to come over and study Harry’s floating head.

“I’m sure Potter will not use this gift for any rule-breaking, right?” Harry met Percy’s piercing stare and felt distinctly uncomfortable. As if he had just been caught in the act of rule-breaking.

But even as he shook his head and denied any plans to break the rules — much to the twins vocal disappointment — he began wondering if he could use the cloak to find out what was hidden in the third floor corridor. Surely it wasn’t truly rule-breaking if they were planning to stop a teacher from stealing some magical artifact. Right?

Perhaps, tonight after dinner, he’d go exploring. It would be nice if he had some good news to tell Tracey and Hermione on New Year’s Eve.

oXoXoXo

For the fiftieth time, Hermione read over the invitation from Tracey. She still wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go to this party - it wasn’t like she and Tracey had parted on good terms - but there were reasons to go. The simplest was that she really missed her friends. It was great to see her parents again and spend the holiday with them, but they just couldn’t fully understand magic and Hogwarts. It was as if Hermione now had a part of herself that was forever separated from her parents.

And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.

Sighing, she glanced up at the clock. The portkey would go off soon. It was marvelous that such a thing existed. Magical travel was really something else. Carefully she slipped the invitation into her bag and picked up the small silver key that would transport her to Tracey’s home in a minute.

_Did she really want to go?_

That thought slipped through her mind again and she pondered it before once more pushing it away. Yes, she’d go. If nothing else this evening would be educational. Being in a magical home and seeing how such a place worked had to be fascinating. That was one of the arguments she’d used to convince her parents to give her permission to go. Not that they had needed much convincing. They’d already planned to go to an adults only party tonight and they knew she had no interest in any of the parties aimed at children or teens.

She glanced up at the cloak just as a she felt a solid tug in the location of her navel. She gripped her bag tightly as the world began to swirl. Her mouth opened to scream but didn’t get the chance before it all abruptly ended as she was slammed down onto a soft, richly padded rug.

“Oh no! Hermione! Are you alright?” Soft hands brushed bushy hair out of Hermione’s eyes as she groaned.

“Move back, Tracey. Give the girl some room.” This voice belonged to a man and it was clipped and aristocratic. Exactly like many of Hermione’s parents' clients.

Or her classmates.

“Take a deep breath, Miss Granger. Traveling the first time by portkey can be quite painful and disorienting for many people. I apologize for not asking Tracey to warn you, but she wouldn’t know as her first experience was as a toddler. It will be better next time.”

Hermione took a deep breath and realized her body didn’t hurt like it had a moment before. Carefully she tried to sit up, large hands helped her and upon reaching a ninety-degree angle she found herself gazing into Tracey’s worried gaze.

“Are you alright?” her friend asked.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, but, please, Tracey, assume I know nothing about something magical next time. Please? Or at least tell me about something new when I have access to the Hogwarts library? I couldn’t exactly look up portkeys at home — or in Switzerland.” She wrinkled her nose to show her annoyance at this fact. Why couldn’t there be easily accessible magical libraries? Or even a magical version of that new information space the scientist Tim Berners-Lee had invented a few years ago? The world wide web had been released to the public on the internet last August and Hermione knew for a fact that she’d be trying to figure out how it worked on parent’s work computer if she hadn’t been off at Hogwarts all autumn.

Tracey flushed, “Sorry, Hermione. You always seem so knowledgeable that I often forget your heritage, unlike with Harry. I remembered to warn him.”

Hermione stared at the blonde girl in disbelief. “Did — did you just  _apologize_?!?”

Her friend blinked, “Why wouldn’t I apologize to a friend? Especially when my mistake caused you pain?”

Those words were quite at odds with Tracey saying that a Selwyn never apologized. Could that be conditional? How?  _Why_?

Before she could ponder this, however, the man with the aristocratic voice spoke once more. “You appear to be feeling better, Miss Granger. How about you try to stand?”

“Alright,” Hermione said and turned to take the hand he offered. As she stood she studied his appearance. It was obvious from his coloring alone that he was related to Tracey. Between that and his accent, he could only be The Honourable Gregory Davis, father of Tracey and the last muggle-born to be placed in Slytherin. Looking at him, it was hard to see that he was a Slytherin. There was a softness to his features that she hadn’t encountered on any of her housemates.

“I don’t look much like a Slytherin, do I?”

She started, not realizing that she was now firmly on her feet and still staring at him. “Um, no, not really.”

He smirked and a wicked twinkle appeared in eyes that a moment before had appeared to be as soft as a cow’s. “Appearances can be deceiving, Miss Granger.” He released her hands and turned his attention to Tracey. “Why don’t you take your friend up to get ready? Mr. Potter won’t be arriving for another hour. I’ll bring him up when he arrives.”

“Yes, Father. See you later.”

Hermione’s hand was grabbed and she found herself being pulled through rooms that would have put Buckingham Palace to shame. Even Tracey’s bedroom was a place of magnificence. With velvet curtains, painted ceilings, and plush carpets it made Hermione think longingly of her own little bedroom, with books crammed on every available surface and the perfect little reading nook built into the window.

The next hour disappeared in a whirl of preparations. While there was a tense undercurrent between the two girls — a remnant of their ‘discussion’ on the Hogwarts Express — there was also a comradery they had never shared before. As if they understood each other better and no words needed to be shared on it. And while Hermione almost never gave her appearance a second thought, it was great fun to play with hair and makeup just this once.

By the time a knock sounded on the door Hermione felt like she was dressed up for Halloween. Her hair wasn’t straightened, but it had been braided and twisted up in such a way that it could no longer be called bushy or wild. Her dress was on — a soft blue gown selected by her mother — and her face was embellished with just a bit of mascara and lip tint. Much less makeup than Tracey wore, but they both agreed that a more natural look suited Hermione better.

“Come in!” Tracey called out, straightening her emerald green gown and smoothing out the skirts.

A familiar messy-haired boy opened the door, a wide smile on his face as soon as he saw them.

Hermione grinned and hurried over, heedless of her appearance as she threw her arms around Harry. “Happy New Year!”

He stiffened, but after a heartbeat hugged her back awkwardly. He relaxed when she pulled back. Not that he could relax for long as Tracey hugged him just as soon as Hermione got out of the way.

Hermione noticed how he stiffened for her hug as well. Did that mean he wasn’t used to hugs? Or did he just not like being touched? She was beginning to have some suspicions. What with him staying at Hogwarts for the holidays and the state of his muggle clothes. But it wouldn’t be a good idea to voice them now, not when today should be happy and fun.

“Let me see you,” Tracey ordered, holding Harry at arm's length and looking him up and down. She sniffed at the sight of his robes. “Where did these come from? They’re hardly dress robes.”

He flushed, “Borrowed them from Percy Weasley, didn’t have any dress robes.”

Tracey sniffed, “From a Weasley? No wonder. They have to be second or third hand. They’re in good condition but they don’t suit you at all. They were shrunk, weren’t they? And the style...well, it must have been meant for a taller wizard. Let’s go raid James’ room. You’re about the same height as him and I know he has multiple sets of dress robes.”

Harry blinked, “James?”

“My younger brother. He’ll be coming to Hogwarts next year. Bit of a pain, but I do love him. Now, you coming?”

Tracey disappeared out of the room with Harry on her heels. As he left Hermione got a good look at his robes and had to agree with Tracey — they fit him like sackcloth. If the people at this party were anything like their housemates then he would be torn apart for dressing like that. And that would hurt him.

Hermione didn’t want to see him hurt.

“Where did Tracey go?”

She looked up to find Tracey’s father standing in the doorway with a hanging bag in his hand.

“She took Harry to her brother’s room. To see if they could find him a better set of dress robes.”

“Ah, I should have expected that. Mr. Potter is muggle-raised, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

“I thought so. I have to say, I wasn’t worried about you as women’s formal fashions are remarkably similar for both muggles and witches. But I assumed Mr. Potter would have no dress robes. Not as a first year.” He held up the dress bag, “So I procured robes for the young man.”

“That was nice of you. But, if I may ask, how did you know his size?”

He chuckled, “Do you really think it’s that hard to get the measurements of the savior of the wizarding world?”

She frowned and crossed her arms, beginning to dislike Tracey’s father. “It should be. Harry has a right to his privacy.”

“Yes, but a Head of House also has a duty to his students. I merely wrote Severus and asked if he could either procure measurements or dress robes for Mr. Potter. Madam Malkin is required by law to release such information to a student’s Head of House or Headmaster.”

That raised red flags. “Professor Snape doesn’t like Harry. Why would he agree to help?”

Mr. Davis shrugged, “One of several reasons. The most likely being that Severus is a good friend of mine — what with us both being raised in the muggle world.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Professor Snape is muggle-born?!? But—”

“No, Miss Granger,” Mr. Davis said with a smile and small shake of his head. “I never said that. Stop and think back over my words. You seem to have a habit of jumping to conclusions and not looking under the surface. I suppose it was your ambition, not your cunning that placed you in Slytherin.”

Hermione bristled at that, opening her mouth to retort. After all, she was the number one student in their year!

“Calm yourself, Miss Granger. A lack of cunning does not mean a lack of cleverness. No, from what Tracey has said you have that in spades. I am merely attempting to give you advice. From one Slytherin muggle-born to another. Slow down your tongue, measure every word, and never, ever forget that the entire world is watching, waiting for you to fail.”

Hermione’s mouth snapped shut. His words tumbling through her mind. Did he speak the truth? Would he lie to her?

She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his, weighing those soft, cow-like eyes. Or were they more like the eyes of a bull? Soft and harmless, yet easily angered and made dangerous?

“I suppose you could compare me to a bull, yes.”

She gasped and stepped back. He had read her mind!!!

He chuckled, “Didn’t know minds could be read by magic, did you?”

She shook her head mutely, feeling violated.

“It’s called Legilimency. The opposite and much easier skill is Occlumency. One of the requirements of my marrying Marie was learning Occlumency. I have to be capable of protecting the family secrets. Same goes for Tracey, though she won’t start lessons until this summer.” He stopped and studied her face for a moment. “I apologize for invading your privacy. I merely wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motive for being Tracey’s friend. I meant to do it earlier, but couldn’t manage it when you arrived. Legilimency requires eye contact.”

His worries about Tracey reminded Hermione of Tracey’s own worries about Draco Malfoy. And, for some reason, that grounded her. Were there that many dangers in the wizarding world? Was it all not as lovely and wonderful as it had first seemed? And why was he sharing this information with her? He hadn’t had to tell her he’d read her mind.

“Ah, you’re wondering why I told you, aren’t you?”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him. Had he read her mind  _again_?!?

He chuckled, “No, I didn’t use Legilimency again, I just guessed where your mind would wander next. You’d have to wonder why I would tell you. And it’s rather simple. I saw that while you don’t have the smoothest friendship with my daughter, you are extremely loyal and would never betray her. Not unless she betrayed you. Am I right?”

Hermione nodded.

He smiled, “Good. Please see me before you leave. I have a book for you on Occlumency. It wouldn’t hurt Tracey to begin learning it early. Nor would it be remise for Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, to begin learning how to shield his mind. The world is a dangerous place, especially for those that don’t fit into the boxes others want to put them.”

Hermione turned over his words. Was that true? That those who couldn’t be easily defined were in danger? Looking back at her life, it seemed possible. But she couldn’t be sure, she would need more research.

“I swear that I speak the truth, Miss Granger. Think on how your classmates react to you — a muggle-born Slytherin. Or even Tracey — the half-blood heiress to what has always been a pure House. Combine that with your friendship with Harry Potter — who we both know will never be exactly what people expect — and you three will be in constant danger.”

Hermione slowly nodded. He was right. People didn’t like the unexpected. Didn’t trust what they couldn’t define. She knew that was true about herself, so why wouldn’t it be true of others? And she never planned to be anybody but herself. No one else could define her, so she’d be perceived as a threat just for existing.

“Good, I’ll give you that book in the morning. Now, I believe I hear Tracey and Mr. Potter.”

And, indeed it was so, Tracey’s voice, loudly complaining, could be heard coming down the corridor. “—the nerve of him! Denying you a set of dress robes! Arrogant prig! Oh, just wait until I get my revenge. James will never—”

Hermione had to stop from laughing as Tracy reached the doorway and saw her father watching her with mild amusement.

“Oh, and what revenge do you plan to enact on your little brother? Do tell,” Mr. Davis asked with an innocent smile.

Tracey swallowed nervously, “Uh, nothing, Father. I’m just angry. Harry can’t wear robes like this tonight!” She gestured at Harry. “He’ll be laughed at! And he’s one of my personal guests! You know how important tonight is! Mother is determined that tonight will outshine the Black Holiday Gala!”

Mr. Davis’ smile broadened, “Then it’s a good thing I already procured him a set of dress robes, isn’t it? Come with me Mr. Potter. You can get changed in the guest room you’ll be staying in.”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Harry said, hurrying to follow Mr. Davis out of the room, leaving the two girls behind.

“I’m still going to get revenge on James,” Tracey whispered.

Hermione giggled, tension releasing out of her now that she had accepted a few truths she’d been denying. As well as the knowledge that a new, mind-based skill, was open to her. Speaking of that mind-based skill... “You still plan to get even? Even though your father can read the revenge plans in your mind?”

Tracey blinked, “Why wouldn’t I? I only get punished if I go too far or get caught. As long as I’m sneaky and only hurt his pride. Not that I’d try anything tonight. Mother would chop me up and use me for potions ingredients if I messed up her party. Especially since she turned down our invitation to the Black Holiday Gala.”

Hermione wandered over and sat on one of the armchairs by the fireplace. “You mentioned that before. Just what was the Black Holiday Gala?”

Tracey took a seat in another chair and slipped her shoes off. “A rather large party hosted by the two Black sisters on Christmas Eve. Invitations went out to families all over the country. Ninety-five percent of them turned the invitation down, what with the scandal surrounding the Black family. Mother assumed the party would be a flop. She never counted on all of the international invitations. Apparently, there were five Ministers of Magic there! Five! Not to mention all of the intellectuals and celebrities. Why, the entire Quiberon Quafflepunchers showed up! For free!!! Do you know how much it normally costs to get an entire quidditch team to make an appearance at an event?!?”

Hermione blinked and shook her head mutely.

“Well, I’m not sure of the exact amount for the Quiberon Quafflepunchers, but they’re one of the more expensive teams. They’re extremely popular. Even when they lose they’re great fun to watch. What with their flamboyant playing style and such. James was so jealous when he heard they had showed up. They’re not his favorite team, but he likes them a lot.”

“So your mother wants tonight to be perfect?”

Tracey snorted, “More than perfect, she wants this party to supplant all the articles on the Black Holiday Gala. She invited every reporter and photographer she could. It was too late for her to send out more invitations. So we’ll only have two Ministers, not five. Maybe next year.”

“What next year?” Harry asked from the doorway.

Tracey hopped to her feet, leaving her shoes off, and went over to inspect him.

“Apparently some party a week ago was a huge hit. Tracey thinks it will overshadow tonight, but next year the Selwyn New Year’s Party can take the crown again,” Hermione answered for Harry.

“Ah. Well, can we shut the door? I have something to share with you.”

Hermione looked at Harry curiously but shut the door.

“We’ll have to be quick. Not supposed to close the door if the genders in a room are mixed,” Tracey said as she gave Harry’s collar one last adjustment.

“I got a gift for Christmas. Don’t know who sent it, but the note said it was my father’s. It’s an invisibility cloak. I almost brought it tonight, but left it locked in my trunk. Don’t think I can carry it around without a bag.”

Tracey gasped, “An invisibility cloak! Those are super rare!”

Harry nodded, “That’s what the twins said.”

Hermione and Tracey blinked at him. “Twins?” They asked as one.

He snickered, “The Weasley Twins. They snuck into Slytherin House and kidnapped me and my presents on Christmas morning. They saw the cloak.”

Tracey grimaced and Hermione understood why. Those twins were a menace and it couldn’t be good that they knew.

He shook his head, “No, don’t worry about them knowing. I found out one of their secrets and in turn they found out something about my father that has made them decide I’m important. But that’s not all I found.”

He paused dramatically, in a way Hermione had never seen him do before. Had he picked this up from the Weasley twins?

Tracey seemed unwilling to ask, so Hermione did.

“What did you find?”

“A mirror. A magic one that can show what you most desire. Professor Dumbledore found me watching it and didn’t punish me for being out of bed late at night.”

“That could be dangerous. What if what you desire is better than what you have?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded, “That’s exactly what Dumbledore said. Still…” he looked away, sadness creeping over his face, “it was nice to see them. To see me standing with them.”

Hermione opened her mouth to ask who ‘them’ was, but Tracey reached out and stopped her. While Harry was still looking away she mouthed, “ _Parents_.” Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she kicked herself for not realizing that. What else would an orphaned boy want? One who she was beginning to suspect had grown up a horrible home?

Tracey reached out to touch Harry’s arm, giving him a friendly smile when he turned to look at her.“It’s almost time to go down. I need to be in the receiving line. Anything else?”

He blinked rapidly, “Oh, yes, the twins showed me where the kitchens are. I’ll show you when we get back.”

That brought a smile to all three of their faces.

“I suppose we should put our shoes back on,” Hermione said practically.

Tracey grimaced but nodded. After shoes were on a quick peek in the mirror the three of them left the room and headed downstairs.

As they went Hermione decided that she didn’t really care anymore if the party went well or not. Tonight had been a good night. She’d repaired her friendship with Tracey, gotten another clue about Harry’s family, and gotten some very good advice from Mr. Davis. Whatever else happened, tonight was a win in her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long time to wait for an update, sorry about that folks. A lot has happened in the last two months. Good news is both my husband and I have jobs now and we're moving into our own place this week! Great news as we've been leaving with family since our lease in South Korea ended last March. I can't promise an update in a week - what with moving - but may be able to manage 2-3 weeks. If you want to stay updated on my writing progress then follow me on tumblr or Facebook at Enigmaticrose4. I also have a twitter in the same name, but no promises on tweets.

**Author's Note:**

> With only a single point of change there won't be as much different between canon at first. But, trust me, things will start to diverge very quickly once Draco gets to Hogwarts.
> 
> Enjoy!


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